


chunmyeongok (a dream-song of spring)

by bysine



Series: chun/myeon/gok [4]
Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Dimension Travel, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Modern Royalty, loosely inspired by The King: Eternal Monarch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bysine/pseuds/bysine
Summary: She opened the cash register, pulled out a ten thousand won note, and held it up to Dowoon’s face. “Daebak.”Dowoon turned to look at the note, which decidedly did not bear the face of King Sejong. In fact, apart from the hat, the king pictured looked uncannily like -----The King: Eternal Monarch, but Dowoon is the King. For forochel.
Relationships: Kang Younghyun | Young K & Yoon Dowoon, Kang Younghyun | Young K/Kim Wonpil, Yoon Dowoon & Everyone
Series: chun/myeon/gok [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936813
Comments: 28
Kudos: 83





	chunmyeongok (a dream-song of spring)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [forochel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/forochel/gifts).



> For forochel's birthday -- happy (very belated) birthday!
> 
> This diverges greatly (well, almost entirely) from the plot of TK:EM but there may be random? inadvertent? spoilers? strewn about.

Maybe this was the last straw: after a long day of radio shows, cover shoots, and one (1) wardrobe fitting in which all the hyungs had laughed at the mesh top the stylist noonas had picked out for him, Dowoon returned to their apartment to discover that someone had finished all his cookies. 

“I only had three,” Wonpil said immediately, possibly because he was the most honest and equally possibly because he’d seen the expression on Dowoon’s face. 

“There’s still a little left,” Younghyun added, looking extremely guilty. 

“There’s _half_ a cookie,” Wonpil retorted, because he and Younghyun had been in a period of alternating between weirdly sniping and then weirdly being silent at each other, and Dowoon had long since given up on figuring out why. 

“If you guys are having a snack I’m taking first shower!” Jae yelled, deliberately ignoring the unfolding drama and dashing for their room. 

These cookies had been the last of the care package Dowoon's _eomma_ had sent, and he’d saved them because they were the very best, with different types of chocolate chips in them and lovely and dark and buttery, with just the slightest hint of salt. He could see her in his mind’s eye, carefully stamping heart shapes out of the dough in the kitchen. And now they were gone.

There was only one thing he could do, which was to turn to the only source of fairness and justice in this terrible place. 

Dowoon spun around, and marched to the room that Sungjin shared with Wonpil.

“Hyung,” he said to Sungjin, who was towelling off his hair with the ferocity of a man who wanted to get to sleep as quickly as possible. “Look at what’s left of the cookies my _eomma_ sent me.” 

Sungjin shuffled over and peered into the box, where precisely half of a heart-shaped cookie remained. 

“Oh, that’s very nice of you, Dowoonie," said Sungjin. 

And picked it up and put it into his mouth. 

There was a collective gasp from Wonpil and Younghyun, who had apparently forgotten that they were in a weird awkward phase.

This was the worst. His hyungs were the worst. Dowoon felt something rise up in his chest, then; a deep, self-pitying resentment. 

Without saying anything, he turned and stomped off towards his room, only to remember that Jae would be inside using the bathroom. So he spun around and found the next best option, which was the tiny storage room next to their manager-hyung's room, which they used for suitcases and spare instruments.

"Dowoonie--" Younghyun was saying, but Dowoon had had _enough_ of all of them.

"LEAVE ME ALONE." 

He stomped into the storage room and slammed the door shut behind him, causing a mini avalanche of badminton racquets, posters and that old prop flute Wonpil had been gifted after shooting a _History Hunters_ episode to fall onto him. 

Specifically, the flute fell directly onto his head.

"Ow," said Dowoon, crouching down and rubbing his head. He picked up the offending flute and brandished it a few times, futilely. Then he sat down on the floor in defeat.

"I wish I were somewhere else," he mumbled. "I wish my hyungs…"

He sighed, because it sounded so stupid, even to himself, to wish that his hyungs would respect him more, or that they wouldn't take him (or his cookies) for granted. 

His hyungs had clearly decided to listen to him for once, because none of them had tried to open the door or even knock on it. Instead, Dowoon could now hear the faint sound of a flute music. 

Maybe they'd switched on the television, he thought, and tried not to feel more sorry for himself. 

It was starting to get cold inside the storage room, and Dowoon noticed, for the first time, a draught blowing in from the gap underneath the door. The music was also getting louder, which was strange because they were already on thin ice with their next door neighbour for noise complaints and were being extra careful. The storage room floor wasn't getting any more comfortable, either. 

Gingerly, Dowoon got to his feet, displacing several posters, and opened the door.

For a single second, he thought he saw the living room of their apartment, except that instead of the ceiling, there was just a whirling sky of stars overhead. 

Then his world seemed to tilt upside down, and Dowoon was pitched out of the doorway and onto a night-time street. 

He scrambled to his feet, whipping around to look for the door, except it had disappeared. He felt in his pocket for his phone, to call someone -- his hyungs; their managers -- 

There was no phone signal. 

"What on earth," mumbled Dowoon. 

Maybe he had been sleepwalking? But the time on his phone was barely fifteen minutes from when he'd last checked it on the way back to the apartment, when he had tweeted about how he was excited about eating cookies.

Dowoon shivered. He was still mostly in his outside clothes, thanks to Jae stealing the first shower, but his feet were getting cold in his socks and room slippers. He was also still holding the stupid flute.

The street didn't look anything like the one outside their apartment building, but he was certain that if he kept walking he'd probably find a convenience store, or run into someone whose phone he could try to borrow. 

So he walked, trying to ignore his increasingly freezing feet and making a mental note to do an online search later to see which part of Seoul had installed tram lines. Soon enough, he came across a gaggle of high schoolers waiting by a traffic light.

"Excuse me," he said, as he approached them.

"Yeah--" one of the students said, turning round as she replied, only to freeze upon catching sight of Dowoon. 

The other students turned too, their loud chatter turning to collective gasps. 

"Is that--" someone whispered.

" _Daebak_ ," said another boy. 

Dowoon had definitely been recognised on the street before, but no one had ever boggled at him quite like this, with mouths hanging open in shock and disbelief. 

These kids must be serious Day6 fans, thought Dowoon, making a mental note to tell the others when all this was over. 

"Hello," he said, giving his best fansign wave and grin. "Do you think I could borrow one of your phones?"

There was a pause, and then a sudden clamour as everyone whipped out their phones and held them out to Dowoon.

"Thanks," said Dowoon, accepting the closest one (which had a lockscreen picture of Younghyun with a funny hat on). 

The student unlocked the phone for him, and the entire group proceeded to stare at Dowoon as he dialled first Sungjin's number, then Younghyun's, then Wonpil's and Jae's. 

All the numbers were not in service. A call to his manager-hyung's phone was answered by a random woman who was quite insistent this was not his manager's number. 

"Thanks," he said anyway, handing back the phone to its owner, who clutched it reverently to his chest.

Weird, thought Dowoon. Was this how Wonpil’s Jinyoung felt all the time?

"Excuse me..." said one of the girls, causing one of her friends to elbow her violently. "Do you think we could take a photo with you?"

"Sure," said Dowoon with a shrug.

After taking multiple photographs and being pointed in the direction of the nearest convenience store, Dowoon set off, ignoring the renewed burst of giggles and breathless " _daebaks_ " once the high schoolers thought he was out of earshot.

He didn't know how he was going to contact the others, but at least he could get a snack while thinking about what he should do next.

There was nobody in the convenience store when Dowoon entered it, apart from a shop assistant rearranging cartons of flavoured milk in the refrigerator. Dowoon browsed slowly, wandering along the instant food shelf and marvelling at the number of new brands and flavours that had been released without him noticing. 

He'd whipped out his phone and taken pictures of three varieties of 'Pyongyang manduguk' for Sungjin, before he remembered that he wouldn't be able to send them. 

Maybe later, he thought, while settling finally on banana milk and a sausage cheese snack. The shop assistant scanned his purchases with half an eye still on her phone, where someone was singing _pansori_ on an episode of _Immortal Song_. There was something very familiar about that voice, and Dowoon was just about to listen more closely when the shop assistant hit pause on the video.

"If you're going to use fake money you should at least do it properly," she sighed, pushing Dowoon’s ten thousand won note back towards him.

“Sorry?” said Dowoon.

The shop assistant held up the note and pointed at King Sejong's face. "Any elementary school kid would know this isn't the Ki-- _omona_.” As she had been speaking, she had looked from the note to Dowoon’s face, and was now gaping at him. 

“Are you--” said the shop assistant in hushed tones. “Are you _incognito_? Is this a _special edition note_?” 

“Uh,” said Dowoon, still feeling somewhat confused by how much the people in this neighbourhood liked Day6. 

“I mean, your disguise is great, I almost couldn’t tell,” the shop assistant continued. She opened the cash register, pulled out a ten thousand won note, and held it up to Dowoon’s face. “ _Daebak_.”

Dowoon turned to look at the note, which decidedly did not bear the face of King Sejong. In fact, apart from the hat, the king pictured looked uncannily like --

“Your Majesty!” someone said, bursting into the convenience store to the sound of the entry alert chime. 

Dowoon turned, and was filled with overwhelming relief. It was Younghyun, followed by the gaggle of high schoolers from earlier. 

“Hyung!” cried Dowoon, charging over happily and flinging his arms around Younghyun. “I’m so glad you found me, it’s been so _weird_ , and my phone doesn’t work, maybe we should all change our mobile phone carriers, and I’m sorry I was mad...”

And then Dowoon paused, because Younghyun was decidedly not hugging him back. Also, all the high schoolers and the shop assistant now had their phones out. 

“Your Majesty must be in shock,” said Younghyun, slipping carefully from Dowoon’s embrace and gesturing towards the door. “Let us first get you onto the helicopter.” 

“Hyung,” whispered Dowoon, feeling, for the first time, that something was seriously, seriously wrong. “Did you just say _helicopter_?” 

\---

**Instagram | @crown_watch • Follow**

[image] [image]  
**crown_watch** His Majesty and Captain Kang spotted at 7-11 [heart eyes emoji]  
#incognito #theking #kingdowoon #coreanroyalty #captainkang #kangyounghyun #royalguard 

**ohcaptain** are they actually HUGGING???  
1d | 49 likes | 10 replies

 **maximus95** did HM change his hair!!  
1d | 78 likes | 3 replies

 **bizbizbiz** [crying emoji] [heart emoji] [crying emoji] [heart emoji]  
1d | 20 likes | 2 replies

 **yexu** this is a dream come true :’))))  
1d | 100 likes | 16 replies

\---

And this was how Dowoon knew that he was somewhere else altogether: as the helicopter rose from the top of the nearest building to the convenience store, he looked out of the window and saw Busan by night, its gleaming high-rise buildings rising up between the sea and the hills, Gwangan Bridge cutting across the water. 

Except it both was and wasn’t the Busan that he knew. For one thing, trams traversed the city, with tracks running along major streets. Then there was the statute of Admiral Yi Sun-sin, which should have been in Seoul but somehow stood here, illuminated, overlooking the peninsula that was Dongbaek Island. 

And then, finally, there was Dongbaek Island itself, which Dowoon knew as a park which he’d sometimes visited as a child, where he and his parents used to follow the walking path around its perimeter. As they approached it, Dowoon saw that it wasn’t a park any longer but a sprawling network of palace buildings, with its massive walls and gates and upward curving roofs lit up and glowing against the night sky. 

“I have called ahead for the royal physician to examine you,” said Younghyun after they had landed and Dowoon, entirely discombobulated, had all but tumbled out of the helicopter, much to the horror of the fifteen or so besuited figures that were lined up to welcome them. 

“I’m okay!” Dowoon called shakily, but still gladly grabbed on to Younghyun’s arm as they made their way inside the nearest building. 

This building turned out to be a large entrance hall to another building. Dowoon tried not to gape as they continued on, wooden floorboards creaking solidly beneath their feet, but it was hard not to stare at the ornate screens of tigers in winter and Jeju horses streaming across endless landscapes. And then, having cut through that building, they finally arrived at a slightly more modern-looking residence, where a stern-looking old woman in a hanbok was waiting for them. 

“Your Majesty,” she cried, sternness melting into consternation as she caught sight of Dowoon. “What on earth has happened to your hair?” 

“He may have hit his head,” Younghyun said, with the air of someone also trying to convince himself that this was a plausible explanation for everything that was happening. 

“This flute fell on me,” Dowoon added, in an effort to be helpful, but faltered at the look of recognition that came over hanbok lady’s face when she caught sight of what Dowoon was holding.

“Do you recognise it?” asked Younghyun. 

“Yes,” said hanbok lady. “But first let us get His Majesty indoors.” 

“Actually, you can all just call me Dowoon,” interjected Dowoon futilely, for the tenth time that evening.

The look that Younghyun gave Dowoon was the closest thing to an eye roll without actually being one. 

Ignoring the both of them, hanbok lady hurried inside, leading them to a set of smaller rooms that seemed like some kind of private study but appeared to be larger than the entire apartment Day6 currently lived in. 

“He hasn’t hit his head,” said hanbok lady to Younghyun, the moment she had dismissed the other guards and servants and shut the doors. She pointed at the flute Dowoon was still holding. “That’s the flute that went missing thirteen years ago, when the late King died.” 

“The one that the usurper intended to steal?” asked Younghyun. 

Hanbok lady nodded. “The very same,” she replied. “You would recall what your father did at the time, when he was Captain of the Royal Guard. The usurper tried to escape, and your father gave chase.”

“Yes,” said Younghyun. “But he caught him, didn’t he?”

“He did,” said hanbok lady, “but what your father didn’t tell you was that to do so, he passed through a doorway into another place, one that both was and wasn’t this reality.”

“So… like a parallel world?” said Dowoon. 

“Indeed,” said hanbok lady. “And there he found the usurper, who was living a false life stolen from his twin in this other place. He brought the usurper back to be tried, but just as they passed through the portal, the usurper tried one last attempt at escape, and while he failed, he managed to cast the flute beyond your father’s reach.”

“Wow,” said Dowoon. “I was pretty sure this was a prop.” 

“So do you mean to say that His Majesty… _isn’t_ His Majesty?” asked Younghyun. 

Hanbok lady turned to Dowoon. “What did you say to me once you had completed the twenty-six days of mourning for the late king?” 

Dowoon looked from Hanbok lady to Younghyun, and back at Hanbok lady again. “I don’t know?” he said. “This is the first time we’ve met.” 

“Who are you?” demanded Younghyun. “What have you done with His Majesty?”

“I don’t know,” said Dowoon. “I mean -- I know who _I_ am, but I didn’t see anyone else when I fell out of the storage room and found myself… here.” 

“Calm yourself,” said hanbok lady to Younghyun, because among the three of them she seemed the most prepared to roll with whatever was happening. “I shall look into this matter. In the meantime, His Majesty -- well, His Majesty’s counterpart, at least -- will need rest.” 

And this, of course, was the moment when Dowoon’s stomach began to growl. 

“Um,” said Dowoon slightly sheepishly. “Do you have any snacks?” 

\---

**Cooding - The Corean Fashion Blog | Royal Roundup**  
_By Cooding Team_

Well, here’s this week’s roundup of some royal fashion, which will sadly have to last you until the King resumes his royal duties. Yes, you read that right -- the Palace released a press statement earlier today to say that the King will be withdrawing from public appearances for the next two weeks because he’s recovering from a case of shingles. We hope His Majesty feels better soon, and that everyone else at the Palace (including Captain Kang) has been vaccinated for chickenpox!

It seems the King had a full schedule last week, and a gamut of outfits to go with it. We start off with his visit to the Busan City Hall Open Library, where he put on a lovely navy hanbok to read picture books to a bunch of schoolchildren.

[photo] [photo] [photo]

Cute, although is it just me or do the kids look kind of bored? I swear the boy in that third photo is yawning -- how dare you, child. 

Tuesday saw the Prime Minister flying in from Seoul to give His Majesty the monthly update on matters of state, this time outdoors in the lovely Hyangwonjeong Pavilion. And once again the royal tailors seem to be punching above their weight with another lovely modern hanbok for His Majesty, this time in a beautifully textured charcoal fabric that perfectly complements the Prime Minister’s suit. 

[photo] [photo]

Special shout-out to Captain Kang standing just off to the right in that second photo, looking fine as always. He seems to be back in his usual uniform again after sending the internets at large into a tizzy the week before over his The Matrix-style blazer on the top, leather on the bottom jacket. 

Wednesday seemed a busy day for His Majesty, who paid a visit to a children’s hospital before entertaining the King of Sweden over dinner. Here he is, in the equivalent of royal casualwear (the return of the Jumper) in one of the wards:

[photo] [photo] [photo]

Will we ever see him wear a pair of sneakers? Only time will tell. Then he changed into a stately tuxedo for the dinner, although for the post-dinner walk he put on The Coat, which I’ve been in love with ever since he first wore it two years ago, because it’s so versatile and a perfect nod towards the traditional _durumagi_ overcoat. 

[photo] [photo] 

Here’s some bonus Captain Kang seemingly heading off a stray pigeon:

[photo]

And then on Friday, after a week of dark colours, His Majesty showed up in the cheeriest light yellow hanbok -- which he last wore to the opening of the newly renovated Busan Museum of Art, if you recall -- to present some awards at the national farmer’s association gathering. It seems they also fed him well, because he sampled some of the prize-winning produce, including the famous Gwangju potato. 

[photo] [photo] [photo] [photo]

Over the weekend, His Majesty opened baseball season at the Busan Sajik Baseball Stadium by making the first pitch, and he’s _still_ wearing fancy shoes. But I’m willing to forgive that since apparently it was also his idea to have Captain Kang bat, and I am forever grateful for the sight of both of them in baseball gear. 

[photo] [photo] [photo]

And then it seems His Majesty went on a little jaunt incognito -- or so he thought, because a bunch of high schoolers immediately recognised him. Oops. Also, left to his own devices, it seems his preferred choice of clothing is… an oversized coat, crew neck sweater, and room slippers?! In any case, it was adorable seeing him making finger hearts along with all the students, hair all out of place like a messy undergraduate.

[photo] [photo] [photo]

\---

It turned out that perhaps Dowoon simply wasn’t cut out for silk pyjamas, which was something he’d discovered ten minutes after changing into them. For one thing, he was terribly afraid he might spill something on them. Also, they were just weirdly smooth, and made a disconcerting not-sound whenever he moved. 

Then he tried to sit on the edge of the -- very luxurious, possibly much larger than King-sized -- bed, and slid right off.

Right, then. That was it. 

To the nearest closet he went, in search of something as close to his usual ratty t-shirt as he could find. 

The first shelf was full of what looked like exclusively turtlenecks, which, _no_. Then there was the sportswear arranged in colour-coordinated sets, and a range of cardigans and pullovers that were each impossibly soft. 

And then, finally, in a drawer at the bottom of the next closet (under a two-tiered drawer with carefully rolled up socks and another filled with immaculately pressed underwear), Dowoon struck gold. Folded neatly inside the drawer was a treasure trove of old, _normal_ clothes, several of them t-shirts that were nice and threadbare and excellent for sleeping in. He also excavated a pair of tracksuit bottoms which, apart from being monogrammed, were in all other aspects just regular tracksuit bottoms.

Gratefully, Dowoon changed into his new old pyjamas. Then, he returned to the drawer to see it would yield just one additional pair of tracksuit bottoms.

Instead, he found a photo album, right at the bottom of the drawer. 

Having lived with four bandmates for almost five years, Dowoon was very aware of how to respect someone's personal belongings. At the same time, he reasoned, technically these personal belongings belonged to _a_ Dowoon, even if it wasn't specifically him.

Before he could second-guess himself, he cracked open the cover of the album. On the first page was a picture of a little girl toddler in ceremonial hanbok clutching a chubby baby whose face Dowoon recognised from his own family albums. It didn't seem like a formal portrait, though -- the girl's mouth was open as if she was saying something to the person taking the photograph, and there was a pair of hands just at the left edge of the frame that must have been someone coming to carry the baby.

Dowoon flipped the page, and was struck by the uncanny familiarity of the next set of photographs. Because those were unmistakably the faces of his mother and father: holding on to his tiny self and his _noona_ in a garden; trying to get food into baby Dowoon’s mouth; a distracted Dowoon looking off into the distance while his _noona_ posed gleefully before a birthday cake. Then, on the next page: Dowoon, older now, receiving a baseball from his father with the sombre air of someone getting a lifetime service medal, while Dowoon’s father looked like he was barely suppressing a laugh.

Except, of course, these were memories belonging to another Dowoon, tucked away in a drawer like something that hurt as much as it was precious. 

“I suppose you would have been curious,” someone said, causing Dowoon to jump. 

He glanced up to see Younghyun at the door, holding on to something in a plastic carrier bag. 

“I’m sorry,” Dowoon said quickly, shoving the album back into the drawer. “I was just looking for pyjamas that were… less slippy.”

Younghyun glanced at the offending silk pyjamas, which were sitting in a sad semi-folded pile on a nearby chair, before looking back at Dowoon with a strange, considering look on his face.

“I’m sorry,” Dowoon said again, feeling his ears steadily get redder. 

“Nothing to apologise for,” replied Younghyun, after a pause. “I assume you’ve eaten.”

“Uh, yes,” said Dowoon, and patted his stomach by reflex. Hanbok lady -- or rather, the Head Court Lady, as she’d introduced herself -- had earlier fed him an extremely healthful dinner that had contained a little too many vegetables for Dowoon’s liking. 

“In any case,” said Younghyun, holding out the bag, “I thought you might not say no to this.”

Dowoon scrambled up to take the bag, which turned out to contain two flavours of sausage cheese snack and a banana milk. 

“Wow, snacks! Thanks!" Dowoon exclaimed, not caring that he sounded far more excited than was reasonable. Then he noticed that the packaging for both sausages had been opened, and they had each had a bite taken out of them. 

He looked up at Younghyun. “I guess you were hungry?” 

“All of His Majesty’s food must be tasted before he eats it,” said Younghyun primly, but Dowoon had had enough experience with his voracious hyungs to recognise a shifty look when he saw one. 

“It’s okay,” said Dowoon, thrusting one of the sausage snacks at Younghyun. “We can share.” 

Later, after Younghyun had bid Dowoon good night and left, empty sausage snack wrappers in hand, Dowoon lay on top of the bedcovers of the King’s bed and thought about how each of his hyungs might possibly react if they’d found themselves in Dowoon’s situation. Jae and Sungjin would probably try to get online so that they could find out everything about this weird parallel world they’d landed in. Younghyun would probably be quite pleased that he was royalty. And Wonpil -- Wonpil would probably just be delighted at the idea of there being another world and some way to travel there. 

But he didn’t have any of his hyungs with him; only this stern, distant other Younghyun who had still been nice enough to have gone back to the convenience store to get the snacks that Dowoon hadn’t been able to pay for with his fake money. The apartment, and his hyungs, felt so very far away, impossibly far, and it was with this lonely thought that he slipped off into exhausted sleep. 

\---

**Soompi | Palace Office Releases Video of King Assuring Nation He is Recovering Well**

In a one-minute video, the King of Corea was seated in his study and delivered a short message stating that he is recovering from a bout of shingles, but that he has had to postpone public appearances for another week as he has not completely healed. Nonetheless, he assured the public that he is well and in good spirits. 

The video was posted on all of the Palace Office’s official SNS channels, and immediately attracted thousands of comments wishing the King well and also expressing concern for his health. 

“He seems a little bit stiff and withdrawn,” wrote one commenter, who received hundreds of upvotes on Naver. 

However, there were others who felt that these fears were unfounded. “Have you ever had shingles?” one other comment replied. “It is not nice, so of course he looks glum.”

\---

Every morning and every evening, the Head Court Lady would bring Dowoon the flute, which he was slowly learning to play since nothing else he had tried (read: waving it around) had seemed to work. And even if playing the flute wasn’t the solution to returning back to his world, it didn’t hurt to learn a new skill, Dowoon reasoned. 

The rest of the time was spent learning how to pretend to be the King. For the most part, this involved attempting to memorise the faces and names of political leaders and the rest of the royal family, which is when he’d made two equally shocking discoveries, the first being that Lee Seung-gi was currently the Prime Minister of Corea. 

“Oh yes,” Younghyun had said, “he really leveraged on his success as an entertainer for that -- had a whole campaign called _Because I’m Your Guy_ and travelled the country singing and everything.” 

“Ah,” Dowoon had replied, because both his noona and his eomma had had a little Lee Seung-gi phase. “Is that a play on _Because You’re My Woman_?” 

Younghyun had given Dowoon an odd look. “No, it’s because his debut single was _Because I’m Your Guy_.”

“Weird,” Dowoon had muttered under his breath. 

The second discovery was that Wonpil was apparently King Dowoon’s second cousin, being the grandson of King Dowoon’s Great Uncle, Prince Buyeong. Which, on reflection, perhaps shouldn’t have been considered as more shocking than the fact that in this world, the equivalent of Dowoon’s Uncle Sang-chul had, thirteen years ago, committed treason and murdered King Dowoon's father, as well as kidnapped Uncle Sang-chul himself and almost killed him. On the other hand, as far as Dowoon was aware, Uncle Sang-chul had survived the episode and was alive and well and an accountant in Daegu. Treason Uncle Sang-chul, on the other hand, had died during his attempt to escape after having been tried and sentenced to life imprisonment.

Wonpil’s entire side of the family, in the meantime, had been living overseas from the time of King Dowoon’s grandfather’s coronation.

“As per court tradition,” the Head Court Lady had explained. “So as to be of no threat to the throne.”

“Where do they live now?” Dowoon had asked, thinking about his own Wonpillie, who, in the early years of their living together, used to come out into the living room and huddle with Dowoon in the corner with the extra mattress when Sungjin's snoring got too bad. And who, while being a (repentant) cookie monster who had eaten not one but three of Dowoon's cookies, also always made it a point to share the little treats his _noona_ sometimes sent him, to make up for the fact that Dowoon's _noona_ lived in Busan. 

Cousins, Dowoon thought. Wonpil would be thrilled.

“Various parts of the world,” the Head Court Lady had replied, and Dowoon had not failed to catch the sidelong glance she had cast at Younghyun, who had gone strangely quiet at the mention of Wonpil. 

Not that there was any opportunity for Dowoon to ask more about it, for there was plenty to do in preparation for Dowoon’s first public appearance as the King. They had, at first, considered whether it would be preferable to have the other Dowoon’s _noona_ return to take over some of the King’s duties, before deciding that it would only raise further questions and disrupt the Princess’s research. 

“Do I call her _Princess_ Soo-jin?” Dowoon had asked, feeling horrified. “No wait -- is she _gongju mama_?” he had sputtered, and then screamed silently into his hands.

“I think you just call her _noona_ ,” Younghyun had replied dryly, although at least he’d seemed pleased that Dowoon had retained some of his lesson on royal titles.

"Wow," Dowoon had said, peering at his _noona_ looking regal in her official palace photo. "That's a fancy _hanbok_."

This appeared to have been the Head Court Lady's cue to produce Dowoon before the royal tailor, who turned out to be none other than --

"Sungjin-hyung!" Dowoon cried, before remembering the three hour slideshow on decorum which the Head Court Lady had given him, where each slide had begun with the words 'A King Must Always'.

"I must say that Your Majesty has never been quite this excited to see me," Other Sungjin replied, sweeping over to Dowoon, his structured black tunic-dress-trouser clothing billowing as he moved. 

"I'd make a joke about shingles and absence makes the heart grow fonder but I'd probably be cast from the palace if I did," he added, while glancing, with some barely concealed judgement, at the hoodie and flannel lounge trousers Dowoon was currently wearing. 

Dowoon tried not to shrink under Sungjin's gaze. There was no reason to, he told himself -- the hoodie was from one of those labels the stylist noonas always got mad about if they came back with stains, and the flannel trousers felt like he was wearing a cloud. 

For a moment Sungjin just looked pained, like he was trying to bite back a comment that the Head Court Lady would not be pleased about. Then he gave a resigned sigh. "Has Your Majesty developed a _slouch_?"

"You like that he's impertinent," said Younghyun later, after Dowoon had been thrust into every single piece of clothing he was meant to be wearing in the coming week. "Or rather, His Majesty did."

"I bet His Majesty was never told he had 'the face of Kim Woo-bin but the posture of Park Dong-bin'," Dowoon said miserably. "I don't even know who Park Dong-bin is supposed to be."

"He was a character in the movie 'Engineering 101', played by Jo Jung-seok," Younghyun replied. "He lived in a PC Bang."

"Did Jo Jung-seok have bad posture in that film," said Dowoon.

"I don't recall," Younghyun said, with the weird airy tone that Dowoon instinctively recognised as his ' _hyung is lying_ ' voice.

When Dowoon returned to his room that night, he stood in the mirror for a moment and tried to stand up straighter the way he kept being reminded to. With his new haircut, and if he smiled without showing his teeth -- not posing to smoulder or look cute like he'd been taught to when he'd first joined JYPE -- it was possible that he looked almost dignified. 

He thought back, now, to a moment during that interminable fitting when Sungjin had forced him into a set of deep plum robes that were covered with gold embroidery, and which rustled heavy and uncomfortable every time Dowoon tried to scratch his neck under its high, stiff collar.

"If Your Majesty would just stay _still_ ," Sungjin had said, sternly enough that Dowoon was suddenly taken back to the practice room at the basement of the old JYPE building; all the times they’d fooled around and become so impossibly giggly that Sungjin had gotten properly annoyed.

Dowoon _had_ stilled in surprise, his fidgeting hands falling to his sides, and had, all of a sudden, glimpsed a familiar stranger in the mirror. Someone else, surely; someone less like Dowoon, that drummer from that band, and closer to the serious and slightly sad-eyed monarch in the royal portraits. 

\---

 **Discovering Seolongtang with His Majesty’s Tailor!!!**  
4,211,764 views

_영국남자 Corean Englishman  
3.85M subscribers_

Today we meet up with the Royal Tailor Park Sungjin, who, apart from being the man who clothes Corean royalty, has been introducing delicious food to millions of followers on his Twitter account. We got a chance to try Seolongtang from his favourite restaurant, as he shared with us the best ways to enjoy its unique flavour. We also chatted with him about life as the Royal Tailor, the challenges he faces ensuring that the King puts his best fashion foot forward, and how he feels about helping His Majesty bring back the hanbok in a big way. Despite my best efforts to stop him, Ollie brought along a photo collection of Corean and UK royals for a game of fashion-off, with unexpected results. We had a blast (and a delicious meal) filming this, thank you for having us!

The Busan Museum of Art’s exhibition, _Royal Fashion From The Time Of King Sohyeon_ , runs from 2 February to 1 September.

Special thanks to:  
The Palace Office and Royal Household  
The Busan Museum of Art

4,230 Comments

**Sarah Xu**  
Ollie: (pulls out deck of photos of the Queen) are you familiar with the concept of a trading card game?  
Josh: (full-body cringe) you’re an idiot  
Park Sungjin: Ah, like Pokemon?

Can someone make this card game a real thing??? It was so much fun

 **Lonely Gin**  
I was a fool for watching this episode at 10pm, so damn hungry now

 **MORK**  
4:33 lost it at this part when he reveals that he lived in London and they start yelling names of London Corean restaurants at each other.

 **Preethi M**  
Josh: (in Corean) Do you have any fashion advice for the both of us?  
Park Sungjin: (in English, to Ollie) Never wear orange.  
Ollie: (looks down at his very orange t-shirt) Does this mean I’m banished from the table?

 **ohcaptain**  
PLEASE do an episode with Captain Kang I beg youuuuuuu

\---

In some ways, appearing in public as His Majesty the King of Corea was not so different from how Dowoon felt when debuting. There was the being shuttled around from thing to thing; the unreal feeling of showing up somewhere and being greeted by enthusiastic strangers who (mostly) wished him well; the prepared scripts that he had to try to look through and memorise the night before or while in transit. There were the stylist and makeup noonas -- except in this case it was Sungjin, and two ladies from the Royal Household who took care of his hair and general appearance. And as with his debut, there was Younghyun there somehow, nudging him along, showing him the ropes. 

Except it wasn’t at all like his debut, because instead of piling into a van with his hyungs, there was a cavalcade of cars and motorcycles, Younghyun in the passenger seat while Dowoon sat alone in the back trying not to fidget with the excess fabric of the _hanbok_ Sungjin had put him in. Instead of some brief lines about why people should listen to the album, Dowoon now rehearsed speeches about wildlife preservation and caring for the elderly. There was no lingering in the back, smiling until it was his turn; no one to hide behind if he didn’t quite know what to say. 

In hindsight, thought Dowoon, the Head Court Lady must have seen to the lineup of appointments prepared by the Palace Office, because his first week had started off comparatively easy. 

On his first day, he cut a ribbon at the opening of a museum exhibition and tried to look like he was listening intelligently as the museum director and head curator gave him a personal tour. At various junctures they kept turning to him as though they were expecting him to make a comment, but Dowoon’s head was already buzzing so much from the cameras and the various people bowing to him that by the time he could formulate some question, he was being ushered onwards. 

The museum people had soldiered on, introducing each exhibit of interest with increasingly strained enthusiasm, until finally, Dowoon saw something that he felt qualified to comment on. 

“Is that…”

The museum people perked up, as did Younghyun, who was following some way behind with someone from the Palace Office and another guard named Yoon. 

Dowoon pointed at an artefact in a glass case. “Is that a drum?” 

“Ah, yes, Your Majesty,” said the museum director, looking relieved even though the exhibition was technically about Joseon clothing. “Curator Kim can explain a bit more about the decision to display this particular _galgo_ drum…” 

“I like drums,” said Dowoon approvingly, after Curator Kim had expounded on her curatorial decision, and gave Curator Kim a thumbs up. 

Behind them, the Palace Office noona may have gasped; Dowoon wasn’t quite sure. The museum people mainly seemed confused, but pleased at the sudden approval, and took pains to point out every other drum that appeared for the rest of the exhibition. 

“I’ll have the Palace Office prepare more talking points,” said the Head Court Lady after that, which was how Dowoon woke up the next day to a plastic folder of factoids about the Kumgang fat minnow and other interesting animals. 

“It’s for the launch of the children’s encyclopaedia of Corean wildlife this Friday,” said one of the Palace Office noonas (the nice one who kept snacks in her jacket pockets), while Dowoon tried his best to read it on the helicopter ride to Seoul. 

"Oh," said Dowoon with some relief, as he'd assumed this was somehow related to the senior citizens' welfare centre they were visiting.

In any case, the wildlife facts did prove useful at the centre, when one of the _harabeoji_ turned out to be an avid fisherman. And when they'd run out of fish-related topics, Dowoon just asked about the weather, which his own _halmeoni_ was always very concerned about. 

"You've grown up so well," said one of the grandmothers, reaching out and clasping Dowoon's hand. "My heart broke when I watched you crying on the television… we were all so sad--"

Out of the corner of his eye, Dowoon could already see Younghyun moving over at the sudden contact, but he gave Younghyun what he hoped was an _it's fine_ look. 

"It's okay _halmoni_ ," Dowoon told her, even though he wasn't exactly sure when his counterpart had apparently wept on national television, or why. "I'm very happy and healthy now, and _halmoni_ should be too, all right?"

And then he hugged her, which felt a bit like hugging his own grandmother, except all the rest of the grandmothers then wanted hugs of their own, and Dowoon had no choice but to oblige, ignoring the way Younghyun continued to loom worriedly over them.

"That was kind of nice," said Dowoon later, hugging his arms to himself. 

"I don't know if I've ever had so many minor heart attacks in a row," Younghyun replied, ushering Dowoon towards the waiting car. 

Inside, Dowoon rested his head against the window and shut his eyes for a second. Then he remembered what the _halmoni_ had said.

"Hyung, why did she talk about me crying on television?" 

There was a pause before Younghyun replied. "That was… well. When the late King, His Majesty's father, passed on, there was a period of national mourning, led by His Majesty."

"But if this was thirteen years ago," said Dowoon, "wouldn't I -- he -- have been eleven?"

"Yes," said Younghyun. 

"Wow," said Dowoon, feeling strangely choked up all of a sudden, the same way he'd felt when he'd passed a pavilion the other day that had been named after the King's late mother. He thought back to the family photos in that bottom drawer again, how precious they were, and found himself desperately missing his own parents and _noona_. 

"Are you quite all right?" Younghyun asked.

"Not really," said Dowoon, "but it's okay."

"We could postpone the children's hospital--"

"No, it's okay!" said Dowoon. "I'll be fine." 

Then after a pause, Dowoon added, "Was -- is His Majesty happy?"

Younghyun glanced round, seemingly almost by reflex, because he seemed to catch himself. 

"Yes," he said carefully, after considering this for a while. "I should think so."

Later, after Dowoon had finished the children's hospital visit and they'd returned to the palace, Dowoon sat on the floor of the King's bedroom and contemplated the flute he'd been futilely learning to play. The Head Court Lady, in the meantime, had been personally going through the palace records in order to glean any information on how a portal might be opened. Younghyun's father, the only surviving person in Corea who had experienced passing through the portal, said he remembered very little of how Uncle Sang-chul -- the evil one -- had managed it. 

There was a knock on the door.

"You could just call for me to enter," said Younghyun, when Dowoon scrambled up and ran over to answer it. 

Dowoon shrugged. "Seemed less imperious?"

Younghyun gave him an exasperated look that was almost fond. "Anyway, I brought this."

He pulled a trolley into view.

"How did you get _jjajangmyeon_?" Dowoon gasped. "And is that _tangsuyuk_?"

“Well, don’t let it get cold,” said Younghyun.

“ _Hyung_ ,” said Dowoon with great feeling, seizing the trolley and dragging it into the room himself. After having nothing but imperial _kimbap_ for two days straight (there was apparently protocol against eating anything that might remotely put him in danger of an upset stomach), the smell of the feast Younghyun had procured was dizzyingly good. 

“Well, I’ve tried everything,” said Younghyun, “so you can dig in.”

“You mean you’ve taken a massive bite out of every _mandu_ ,” said Dowoon, too excited to be truly annoyed. 

“No stone unturned,” Younghyun countered, but Dowoon was too busy stuffing his face to reply. 

It was only after they had finished eating (for there was only so long Dowoon could endure Younghyun’s pointed staring before he grudgingly held out a pair of chopsticks) that Dowoon thought to wonder why Younghyun had brought this sudden feast. 

“You’ve worked hard,” was Younghyun’s reply, and it was almost touching, except that immediately after that Younghyun ate the last half-bitten _mandu_ on the plate. 

\---

**King Dowoon of Corea Out and About Again - OH NO THEY DIDN’T!**

\- King Dowoon resumed public appearances after recovering from shingles (poor dude)  
\- He went to a bunch of things, including a museum exhibition opening  
\- He also visited a senior citizen’s centre where he hugged all the old ladies and high-fived a bunch of kids at a children’s hospital  
\- Corean press had a field day (week) because they’ve rarely seen him so expressive  
\- Small group of anti-royalists criticised His Majesty for hugging people when he might still have shingles  
\- Pics under the cut

( **Read More...** )

Source: **1** **2** **3**

74 comments

**jang_na_rargh** Okay ONTD be honest, who else is here for his super fine bodyguard?

**fellytone** that’s captain of the royal guard for you, lady!  
… just kidding im 100% here for captain kang

 **injeolmi** I love how relaxed he looks here, I think his hairdressers deserve a pat on the back for switching up his parting and giving him bangs, so fresh and boyish

 **disgursting_sheet** Can someone explain the controversy to me… are people mad because he hugged a bunch of grannies??

**fellytone** well, a very small minority of netizens are, but these were mainly on anti-royalist websites. For everyone else, it wasn’t so much of a controversy as a pleasantly surprising thing? The King of Corea ascended the throne when he was very young (he was 11 I think) and basically it’s like the whole nation has watched him grow up. He’s generally known for being very serious and solemn so I think when he first went overseas for university there was some excitement also at the pics of him having fun. Actually a lot of people are very touched by how sweet he was to the seniors and just seeing him smile so brightly. 

\---

"About the Order of Cultural Merit presentation," said the Head Court Lady to Younghyun over breakfast.

Dowoon's breakfast, specifically. Which, as he'd discovered over the past month, was essentially a morning meeting in which he happened to also have food. 

"I saw the list," Younghyun replied, opening another one of the Palace Office's ubiquitous files. "Park Jae-hyung is a personal acquaintance of His Majesty's."

Dowoon had, by now, simply resigned himself to the weird feeling of seeing a familiar face in this world and yet not knowing who they were. It didn't mean he didn't still feel a jolt of recognition when he glanced down at the photograph in Younghyun's file -- of Jae, wearing a _hanbok_ onstage and holding a paper fan, with his hands outstretched. 

"Of course I know him--" he paused, remembering again that obviously this was a different Jae. "How _do_ I know him?"

"He's a _pansori_ singer," said Younghyun. "We -- His Majesty met him in London."

"Ah," said Dowoon, because Younghyun spoke of London very little but always with an odd look on his face, like he was holding back a lot of feelings. "Then that's years of history I couldn't possibly pretend to know about."

"Thankfully it was just for a term," said Younghyun. "He was teaching and contributing to a research project at one of the universities."

"We will shorten the reception," the Head Court Lady said. "Just photographs and brief greetings, and then His Majesty will retire." She reached over and patted Younghyun on the arm. "I trust you will tell His Majesty what he needs to know?"

"Of course," said Younghyun, with that funny look again. 

"If it helps," Dowoon said later as they walked to the King's study, "you could just hoist me up by crane right after the presentation and have me disappear before I can talk to anyone."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" said Younghyun.

" _You_ would," Dowoon replied, and elbowed Younghyun in the ribs. He'd probably only succeeded in doing so because he had had the element of surprise, judging from the shocked and slightly outraged look on Younghyun's face.

If anyone were to compile a dossier of four years of their university life, it would be this Younghyun. For this reason, Dowoon was not particularly surprised when he had produced just that. What he was more surprised about was that much of it was handwritten.

"I had a fountain pen phase," said Younghyun tersely, when Dowoon mentioned this. 

"Somehow I thought this would be a little more… organised," said Dowoon, as Younghyun flipped several times through in search of the part about Jae. 

"Try keeping this _organised_ while getting a bachelor's degree and keeping an eye on His Majesty," Younghyun grumbled. "Everything was in English, mind you."

Dowoon's eyes widened. "Wow," he said. "You had to study _and_ work?"

"Well, they asked me if I wanted a free education, and I said yes," replied Younghyun. "Anyway, here."

He turned the ring binder around to show Dowoon a photograph that was clipped to one of the pages. 

Dowoon looked at it, and felt the breath catch in his throat. 

It was -- it was the five of them. In a dimly-lit pub, beer glasses (and a cup of water) cluttering the table, coats and scarves piled in one corner of the u-shaped pub booth they were sitting in. There was Dowoon, in the innermost seat next to the coats, sporting a week-old stubble and finally looking his age in a hoodie and a denim jacket. On his left was Younghyun, of course, hair longish and falling into his eyes like how Dowoon’s Younghyun might keep his hair. Opposite Younghyun was Sungjin, who looked much the same as he did now apart from the man bun, and Jae next to him, with black hair and no glasses. Then Dowoon glanced back at the final member at the table -- Wonpil, who was on Younghyun’s other side, his face half hidden as he turned away from the camera to say something to Younghyun. 

And now, perhaps, Dowoon understood what the funny look on Younghyun’s face meant. Because what else could it be, _who_ else could it be, that would make Younghyun light up like that? 

He felt now somehow sorry and embarrassed, like he'd stumbled upon something else that was painful and private. So instead he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone -- not the new one the Head Court Lady had presented him with, but the phone he'd brought with him from his own world. He scrolled through the image gallery until he found a good one, and then he slid the phone over to Younghyun. 

"Is this…?" asked Younghyun.

"Yeah," said Dowoon. He had shown Younghyun pictures of Dowoon’s Younghyun, and of Sungjin, after Dowoon had met the Royal Tailor Sungjin of this world. But he hadn’t pulled out photos of Wonpil, because Younghyun had said nothing about him after that briefing by the Head Court Lady. And then everything else had happened -- having to take on the role of King, for one thing -- that there was no time to think or talk about Dowoon’s world; not when all his energies were spent trying to fit into this one. 

The picture Dowoon had chosen was of the five of them at the barbeque place -- the one near the old JYP building that their manager-hyungs used to take them to when there was very, very good news worth celebrating. It must not have been more than a few months ago, judging by how Jae’s hair was still vaguely pink. Their seating arrangement, somehow, was exactly the same as in Younghyun’s photograph -- Jae and Sungjin, then Dowoon in the centre, then Younghyun and Wonpil. 

And while Wonpil’s face in Younghyun’s photo had been turned away from the camera, in this one, it was Younghyun who was looking over at Wonpil, catching his arm with one hand saying something to him while Wonpil laughed into his glass of water. 

Clearly Younghyun had noticed the similarities, from the way his voice cracked a little when he said, “Are they -- are you --” 

“That’s us,” said Dowoon. “That’s the band. We’ve lived together for five years, since we debuted.” 

“We…” Younghyun began. “It was four years, for us. Except for Jaehyung, he was with us for just a term, and then he went back to touring. We didn’t all live together, but we were friends.”

“And then you and His Majesty came back,” said Dowoon.

Younghyun nodded. “Sungjin returned to Corea a year after, and he had so many things to say about His Majesty’s dressing that His Majesty just offered him the job. Jaehyung, in the meantime, found a way to bring _pansori_ to the world.”

“What about Wonpil-hyung?” asked Dowoon. 

“Still in England,” Younghyun replied, looking down at Dowoon’s phone again. “He composes and teaches music at a school.” 

"Does he play the piano?” asked Dowoon.

Younghyun nodded. 

“I like it when Wonpil-hyung plays,” said Dowoon, folding his arms over the desk and resting his head on top of them. “When he sings, too.” 

“He has a good voice here too,” murmured Younghyun, sounding very much like he was far off in another memory. 

Dowoon felt exhausted all of a sudden. He’d been pushing ahead this past month, just thinking about each of the tasks before him, and now that he had stopped to look back, it was like the full weight of all his worry and helplessness had slammed back against him. 

From where his head was resting, through the slanted angle of his vision, the photograph from England looked as far away and otherworldly as Dowoon’s own reality felt.

“You’ll find a way back,” said Younghyun quietly, placing a hand on Dowoon’s arm. 

_So will you_ , Dowoon wanted to reply, but he didn’t know if he should reveal what he knew -- what he’d always known, he now realised -- about that lovely and precious thing that had always been there between his hyungs. 

\---

Posted by u/joppipola | r/koreanvariety  
**A Day In The Life of Park Jaehyung’s Manager - Workman Ep. XX [Eng Sub]**  
youtu.be/DiLul3...

[Video]

128 Comments | Share | Save | Hide | Report

 **dagang**  
It’s finally here and I DIED within the first 5 seconds of Jang Sung Kyu lip syncing to that pansori and then them cutting to that unimpressed security guard 

**songofjaehyung**  
This was so chaotic and hilarious!! Got a headache trying to read all the subs  
I can’t decide which part was my favourite -- the bit where JSK goes to get Jaehyung’s humidifier/steamer thing and he’s charging through the KBS corridors yelling for people to get out of the way because the nation’s vocal cords are in jeopardy, or that ridiculous pun-filled exchange where he’s just handing Jaehyung larger and larger fans from a box of fans. 

**heltersmelter**  
Nobody:  
Literally nobody:  
JSK: so do you think you’re more good-looking than exo  
Jaehyung: my mom does

**joppipola**  
Jang Sung Kyu: If you got into a fight with Exo who do you think would win?  
Jaehyung: how many members are there in Exo?  
Caption: Didn’t you perform with them???

 **sehunsface**  
I’m so impressed that Jaehyung saves his voice by not talking before performances, but also that whole sequence with the whiteboard was a hundred times funnier because he slowly wrote out responses to everything JSK said in bullet points and the last one was just a blurred out swear word.

 **yexu**  
why is nobody talking about the frickin entire REHEARSAL CEREMONY jsk made jaehyung do in a random KBS corridor to prepare for the cultural merit presentation when all he was supposed to do was pick up the suit from the dry cleaners???? That PD with a piece of paper on his chest that said “His Majesty” and the random dude they found outside the toilet who had to be “Captain Kang” I was screechign with laughter

**joppipola**  
ikr??? Jaehyung being all like, “you know that I actually have to meet them, right? And they might watch this?” and jsk just laughing in his face saying of course they won’t, and the editors just cutting to a black screen with greetings and an apology

 **nyamcat**  
Comedy gold. I can’t believe this gig happened because he ran into jaehyung during that PC Bang episode.

\---

As with all visitors to the palace, attendees of the presentation ceremony would have to present themselves at the great Gwanghwamun gate at the very tip of Dongbaek island, where they would be subject to the first of two security screenings. After clearing security, they would then board buses that would take them through the palace grounds, past the forty or so buildings of various sizes that served as the offices of the Palace Office, as well as lodging for the Royal Household. Upon reaching the second gate, they would proceed on foot through this gate, which opened into an expansive courtyard that led to the Throne Hall. 

After they had crossed the courtyard, they would be subject to a second security screening before being allowed to climb up the stone steps to the entrance of the Throne Hall, avoiding the centre aisle of the steps which was, as the royal ushers would remind guests, only for the King's use. 

For Dowoon, the protracted journey the guests would have to take simply meant that he had more time to frantically review the chart of people whose faces he should recognise. 

“Who is this?” said Younghyun, holding up a picture on his tablet while Sungjin helped Dowoon into the round-collared _gonryongpo_ that went over the _hanbok_ he was already wearing. 

“Stop showing me the picture of Lee Seung-gi, I know what he looks like,” snapped Dowoon from somewhere within the fabric of his dragon robe. 

(“From the vaults,” Sungjin had said, when he’d produced it earlier that evening. The robe was a rich cream colour, shimmering with a gold so pale it looked almost silver.

“Can I just wear the suit?” Dowoon had asked, because the jade belt seemed like it would be very uncomfortable.

Sungjin had fixed Dowoon with a look that would probably have made actual King Dowoon flinch a little. It had certainly made Dowoon flinch a lot.)

“Show him the Minister for Culture again,” said Sungjin now, pulling the robe past Dowoon’s head finally and adjusting the collar. “Also don’t think I’ve forgiven you, Kang Younghyun, for thinking that I wouldn’t notice that His Majesty was someone else entirely.”

Because he did not have to stand still every other day while Sungjin placed pins very near to his person, and therefore did not know fear, Younghyun rolled his eyes. 

It transpired that Sungjin had suspected something was wrong since Dowoon's first fitting. After two weeks of careful observation, he had finally confronted Younghyun with his wild theory that His Majesty had somehow lost all his memories, only to discover that the truth was something far stranger. It had taken the Head Court Lady vouching for the falseness of Dowoon’s identity to convince Sungjin that this wasn't some elaborate prank.

“Your Majesty,” said one of the Palace Office hyungs, popping his head into the room. “The Prime Minister has arrived.” 

“Okay,” said Dowoon, giving the Palace Office hyung a thumbs up. They’d stopped looking surprised whenever he did that now, but that might have something to do with Younghyun planting a rumour that His Majesty had been reading a lot of books about how to be a personable leader. 

After Sungjin had fitted on Dowoon’s jade belt, and made someone get a comb so that they could try and make a tuft of hair at the back of Dowoon’s head lie flat, and then tried to spritz the tuft with water only to be given a second time check by another Palace Office noona -- after all of that, Dowoon set off, with Younghyun and a group of guards, down a passageway for members of the royal family that would bring them nicely into the front of the Throne Hall. 

It was always bizarre to walk into a room and see everyone bowing at him, but having an entire hall of people do so was particularly terrifying. As Dowoon stepped past the threshold towards the elevated platform at the front of the Throne Hall, he felt a sudden urge to turn back; a weird panic in his chest and a buzzing in his ears, like how he used to get before a concert except ten times worse. 

Younghyun, who had stepped away from Dowoon to stand by a nearby pillar, must have seen Dowoon pause, because when Dowoon glanced over to him, he raised one hand discreetly over the front of his jacket in what was unmistakably a thumbs up. 

Dowoon took a deep breath, swallowed back his fear the way he always did before a show, and continued walking until he was standing in front of the throne. 

The rest of the evening proceeded, to Dowoon, in a series of moments that stretched for ages and yet slipped by before he knew it. First they were singing the national anthem, and then suddenly he was in the middle of his opening remarks, making the guests laugh with a slightly panicked ad-lib about how he’d been giving his staff some trouble with the tuft of hair on the back of his head that refused to stay down. Then all of a sudden he was sitting down and Lee Seung-gi was giving some long and energetic speech about the significance of the Order of Cultural Merit instead of just reading the citations like he was supposed to. 

And then: Jae-hyung. 

How Dowoon’s Jae would have laughed to see them here like this, Jae stiff and serious in his black suit, Dowoon swimming in his heavy robes. Younghyun, still by the pillar, murmuring instructions into his headset. If Dowoon glanced down to the end of the Throne Hall he’d probably be able to see Sungjin, where he usually stood with the Head Court Lady, observing the proceedings. 

The only person missing was Wonpil, continents away and not meant to set foot in the country. 

“Your Majesty?” someone said. 

It was the Palace Office noona who was holding Jae’s Order of Merit medal on a tray. She was giving Dowoon a concerned look. Jae, on the other hand, seemed amused. 

“I know it’s been a while, Your Majesty, but you don’t have to look _so_ shocked,” said Jae wryly. “Also, Director Bong needs to get his Gold Crown, First Class after me and I don’t want to hold him up.”

“Oh, uh,” said Dowoon, fumbling for the medal. “Congratulations! Uh, I mean,” he paused, frantically trying to recall the words he had successfully said to the recipients who had just come before Jae. “For your meritorious service, I award you the Precious Crown, Third Class,” he finally said, before presenting the medal to Jae amidst a flurry of camera flashes. 

True to the Head Court Lady’s word, Dowoon was whisked away from the reception the moment he’d finished his last photograph with the recipients and had shaken Lee Seung-gi’s hand. On the way back to the King’s quarters, however, Dowoon paused, causing the party of royal guards and Palace aides to come to an abrupt halt as well. 

He turned to Younghyun. “Hyung, you should go catch up with Jae-hyung.”

“I must escort Your Majesty--” Younghyun began.

“I have everyone else here with me,” countered Dowoon, and when Younghyun continued to protest, he added, “You’re off duty now. And that’s -- that’s an order.” 

Dowoon didn’t think he’d said it particularly convincingly, but Younghyun had no choice but to grudgingly salute him. 

“Good,” said Dowoon, trying not to think about how much grief Younghyun was going to give him about this in private later. “Come on, Staff Sergeant Yoon,” he said instead, turning to the guard on Younghyun’s left. “Let’s get snacks!” 

\---

**Instagram | @pansor.eaj • Follow**

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**pansor.eaj** look, ma [silver medal emoji] [crown emoji] [raising hands emoji] 

**jangsk.workman** Can I get a raise?

> **pansor.eaj** We’ll see.

**miyayeah** you and mr captain both clean up well [sunglasses emoji]

> **pansor.eaj** [peace sign emoji] 

**steveyeun** BONGGGG!!!!! Congrats to you too, I guess.

> **pansor.eaj** really feeling the love here [eye roll emoji] also he said hi! 

**wonpil.kim** Congratulations, mate! So pleased, you absolutely deserve it [fire emoji] [fire emoji] [fire emoji]

> **pansor.eaj** [heart emoji] let’s catch up when I’m next in ldn

\---

So it wasn't that Dowoon wanted to pry or meddle, truly it wasn't. 

He had only pulled the coat out from the recesses of the King's closet on the night of the Order of Merit presentation, because he had wanted to take a walk to clear his head. As he had strolled to the farthest end of the small private garden behind what would have been the Crown Prince's quarters, Staff Sergeant Yoon and the rest of the guards in tow, a cold gust of wind had started up. 

Dowoon had stuck his hands into the pockets of the coat, and had found a piece of paper that had been left inside one of them. 

' _PIANO LESSONS_ ', it had read in English, ' _Beginner to advanced, young or adult students welcome. I have a BMus(Hons) from the Royal College of Music and am currently pursuing further studies._ '

And then, below that text and a drawing of a penguin playing the piano, had been the name ' _Kim Wonpil (Mr)_ ', and a telephone number. 

He hadn't thought much of it at first, only that His Majesty must not have worn this coat very recently. But after he had returned to his room (following a well-deserved supper of hot chicken ramyeon mixed with black bean noodles shared with Staff Sergeant Yoon and the rest of the guards, who kept trying to help Dowoon open the seasoning satchets as he boiled the many packets of noodles), he had pulled out the leaflet again. 

It was creased like one of the bits of paper Dowoon tended to find in his own pockets -- set lists or notes that he would fold up and forget about until the next laundry accident. He figured he could probably just leave it in a drawer for King Dowoon to find when he came back, whenever that would be. But at the same time, as he sat on the floor looking at the telephone number printed at the bottom of the page, a wild and half-formed idea began to form in his mind. 

He could -- he could just… say hello, couldn't he, thought Dowoon. Maybe the number wouldn't even be in use now. 

If it were any other time, perhaps Dowoon would have dismissed the idea out of hand. But that night, fresh from having met this strange, other Jae, after weeks of instinctively documenting the differences between the Younghyun and Sungjin here and his own hyungs; of standing in the impossible, exhausting shadow of another Dowoon -- perhaps there was a part of him that was still hoping, madly, for some sense of normalcy. That somehow, Wonpil’s counterpart here would possess some essential Wonpilness despite Dowoon's Wonpil being a world away.

Before he knew it, he had pulled out his phone and was dialling the number. He waited, barely daring to breathe, as the call was connected. It rang for several breathless seconds, and then a voice answered.

Dowoon's heart swooped, and then immediately plummeted as he realised that it was a woman speaking in English asking him to record a voice message. Disappointed and yet somewhat relieved, Dowoon hung up. He didn't even know what time it was in London, so it was probably a good thing he hadn't managed to get through --

His phone began to vibrate. The number he had just dialled flashed up on the screen. 

For a few flabbergasted seconds Dowoon just stared at it as it buzzed in his hand. And then, swallowing back his nerves, he answered.

"Hello?" said a voice that was definitely Wonpil's, in Korean. "May I know who this is?" 

He sounded apprehensive, almost, perhaps just a little hopeful.

"Hello?" said Wonpil again. 

"Hyung," said Dowoon. "It's me."

There was a pause. "Dowoonie?"

"Uh, yeah," said Dowoon, after fumbling with the phone and almost dropping it at the sound of Wonpil saying his name and not 'Your Majesty'. "Is this -- is this a bad time?"

"No, I was just finishing a sandwich, hang on --" there was a rustling sound, followed by the scraping of a chair and finally a door being shut. "Sorry, I'm back. Is something wrong? This isn't your usual number."

"No, uh, well. It's hard to explain," said Dowoon, rapidly beginning to panic because his entire plan had been 'call Wonpil's number' and he hadn't thought about what he might actually _say_.

"Well, lucky you called today then," Wonpil replied. "We just cancelled brass ensemble because the second trombone has shingles and half the students can't remember if they've had chickenpox before or not. So I have plenty of time."

Even over the phone, it was evident that while Wonpil's Korean was perfectly fluent, there was the edge of another accent when he said words like 'trombone'. And yet, in spite of that, Dowoon didn't feel the same sense of uncanny dissimilarity as he had when he'd met his other hyungs here.

"This is going to sound very strange," said Dowoon, "but would you believe me if I said I was another Dowoon from a parallel world?"

There was a long moment of silence from the other end of the line, during which Dowoon wondered if Wonpil would simply think he was a phone scammer and hang up. 

"Well," said Wonpil at length. "That's certainly very odd, but I suppose it _is_ possible."

"You... don't think I'm a phone scammer?" asked Dowoon, stunned by Wonpil's easy acceptance.

"It's a rather odd premise to start a scam with, isn't it?" said Wonpil, in the calm and reasonable voice Dowoon recognised from when he would try to mediate any overexcited band discussions. "Also, you're calling from a palace mobile number, and I doubt Young-- I doubt they would allow a voice phishing syndicate to operate from the premises."

"Ah," said Dowoon. "That makes sense."

"But if you're here," Wonpil continued, "does that mean the Dowoon from this world is in yours?"

"I think so," said Dowoon, switching the phone to his other ear and drawing his knees up to his chest. "So I've been trying to… stand in, while we figure things out."

"I see," said Wonpil. "How has that been?"

"Um, it's--" Dowoon began, wanting to say that it was okay, like he'd been telling Younghyun and the Head Court Lady, but finding that he couldn't say it. Not to Wonpil. "It's… I mean."

"Oh, Dowoonie," said Wonpil gently, and Dowoon's eyes suddenly stung with tears. 

"I'm sorry for calling you like this," Dowoon mumbled, wiping at his face with his free hand, feeling angry and embarrassed at himself for just falling apart like this.

"Dowoon-ah, don't apologise," said Wonpil, which made Dowoon have to pull up the front of his hoodie so he could push his wet face against the fabric. He was pressing the phone so hard against his ear that it was starting to hurt.

Maybe it was worse that this Wonpil was so much like Dowoon's Wonpil; that he had so readily believed what Dowoon had told him based on his own strange, sensible logic. Because it turned out that Dowoon had just barely been able to hold back just how much he missed his parents and his noona and his hyungs. He missed being able to step outside whenever he wanted without having to inconvenience upwards of five other people. He missed playing music with his hyungs, missed the familiar ache in his arms that he sometimes had after a day of practice, how his hands would feel empty and weird when he _wasn't_ holding his drumsticks. 

"I'm sorry," said Dowoon again. 

"This is a very weird phone scam," Wonpil replied, sounding a little choked up himself. "Is -- does Younghyun know? I suppose he must. And Sungjin."

"Yeah," said Dowoon. "They both know."

"And you called me because--" Wonpil paused. "You must know me, then, back in your reality."

"Yeah."

"Well, thank goodness for Trevor Hsieh's shingles, I suppose," said Wonpil cheerfully.

"I'm sorry?" Dowoon hiccuped.

"I've got the afternoon free," said Wonpil, "and I would very much like to hear all about it."

So Dowoon told him. About that fateful night with the half a cookie, about how they all made music together, how they'd come to debut and what each of the hyungs were like ("I must confess that I'd probably have eaten the cookies too," Wonpil had admitted). He spoke until his voice had gone hoarse and Wonpil had had to go cast around for a charging cable. 

And Dowoon must have fallen asleep at some point, because his last memory was telling Wonpil about the first time he'd heard his hyungs singing together and had missed several beats because of how _good_ they were, before he was jerking awake at the sound of someone talking to him.

"Did you fall off the bed?" asked Younghyun.

Dowoon shifted, and discovered that the pain at the back of his head was actually the drawer knob of the antique bedside table he was currently propped up against.

"I had a funny dream," he said, stretching out his cramped legs. "I dreamt--" 

He trailed off when he glanced up and caught sight if Younghyun's face. Despite Younghyun's best efforts, it was clear he was nursing the aftereffects of catching up with Jae.

"Are you…?"

Younghyun grimaced. "Director Bong drank both of us under the table."

It was only later, after Dowoon had discreetly requested some hangover soup and painkillers for breakfast and had let Younghyun test the entire portion for poison, that Dowoon had looked at his phone and realised that he hadn't been dreaming.

 _Dowoon-ah, hwaiting!_ read the message, from the +44 number he had dialled last night, accompanied by a Pororo sticker. 

Dowoon clicked through to the profile picture and saw that it was indeed Wonpil, smiling for the camera and holding a Pororo plushie keychain beside his face.

He glanced over at Younghyun to see if he'd noticed, but Younghyun was currently doing his level best to look at the day's schedule on his tablet while having what was most likely the Gold Crown, First Class of blinding soju headaches. 

"Hyung," said Dowoon. He reached over to pluck Younghyun's dark glasses from where they were hanging from Younghyun's jacket pocket, and held them out. "I think you should probably wear this for the rest of the day."

\---

 **Chae-ryeong Lee** @chaerrs  
guys ryujin and i are in the shittiest bar in haeundae and f*cking bong joon ho just walked in with that pansori guy and another dude

 **Chae-ryeong Lee** @chaerrs  
omg the other dude just took off his hat and scarf and he’s captain kang what is happening how do they know each other 

**Chae-ryeong Lee** @chaerrs  
i think they were already tipsy when they came in but pansori guy has taken over the karaoke box and he’s singing lee seung-gi’s lets go to the beach but every time he sings ‘bon voyage’ everyone takes a shot

 **Chae-ryeong Lee** @chaerrs  
when i say everyone i mean everyone they’re paying for everyone wtffff

 **Chae-ryeong Lee** @chaerrs  
someone ordered jokbal delivery to this bar i repeat WE ARE NOW EATING JOKBAL

 **Chae-ryeong Lee** @chaerrs  
wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

 **Chae-ryeong Lee** @chaerrs  
GOOD MORNING and sorry for flooding your twitter feeds last night a.k.a. the most bizarre night of my life. High point: getting free jokbal and soju. Low point: coming out of the bar to find captain kang sitting on the ground staring blankly at his phone

\---

An odd clarity had settled upon Dowoon after that night. 

It wasn't as if he'd found a way to fix the situation he was in. But somehow, putting words to the tangle of feelings nestled within him had made all the difference. He still felt them, of course: the defeat each morning when he opened his eyes to find himself still in the too-large, too-silky bed; the weird bittersweet pang of looking at Younghyun and realising, weeks in, that he could no longer precisely distinguish which parts of this Younghyun were distinct from Dowoon's Younghyun. 

At least -- at least there was Wonpil now, just a message away, even though Dowoon didn't text Wonpil as often as he thought about it. This was, perhaps, partly out of guilt, because while he wasn't lying to Younghyun about anything, it did feel weird to be more or less secretly communicating with Wonpil.

"Something's gotten into you," said Younghyun over breakfast one morning.

"Is it egg?" asked Dowoon, peering down at his shirt.

Rather than giving Dowoon the non-eyeroll of exasperation, Younghyun just laughed, which Dowoon counted as progress.

The Press Secretary, in the meantime, finished the last corner of her buttered toast and wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin. 

Now everybody ate, at the morning meeting that masqueraded as breakfast, because there was something profoundly awkward about Dowoon trying to shovel rice and soybean sprout soup into his mouth while a staffer gave the day’s update. Dowoon was still hopeful that the profound awkwardness of everyone having to shovel rice and soybean sprout soup into their mouths would eventually cause them to reconsider the morning breakfast meeting altogether.

“We’ve prepared some lines for the Sungkyunkwan University Spring Festival, in the event that word gets out during or after His Majesty’s visit,” said the Press Secretary.

“Why wasn’t I told that the Spring Festival visit is still on the schedule?” asked Younghyun.

“What is the Spring Festival visit?” Dowoon asked the Head Court Lady in an undertone. 

“I very much recall us having this discussion last week,” said the Press Secretary, “and you agreeing to it." 

"Was he wearing dark glasses during that meeting?" the Head Court Lady asked the Press Secretary, and they exchanged formidable smiles.

Younghyun's hands twitched, as if he wanted to bury his face in them but had stopped himself. 

The Spring Festival visit, it transpired from the ensuing discussion, turned out to be some sort of royal tradition in which the King would visit Sungkyunkwan University incognito during their annual May festival. 

"It's a security nightmare," said Younghyun. "I've been recommending that it be cancelled for years."

"It's a tradition dating back to the time of King Sohyeon," countered the Head Court Lady. "And His Majesty wouldn't have been discovered two years ago if not for somebody spotting _you_ , Captain."

"I did not--" Younghyun began, then threw up his hands.

"Do we get disguises?" asked Dowoon with great interest. 

As it turned out, the Department of Public Engagement's idea of a disguise for the King was, essentially, the clothes Dowoon would normally wear if left to his own devices.

"A regular university student," Sungjin had said. He had, despite his threats to 'take inspiration from street fashion', stuck aggressively to the brief he'd been given and unearthed a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, and a hooded jacket that looked like it could have been plucked straight from Dowoon's old closet. "Who also has hay fever," he had added, and handed Dowoon a pollen mask.

"Ah," Dowoon had replied, putting on the mask, followed by the pair of extremely unfashionable glasses Sungjin had apparently excavated from the Palace lost and found.

It did feel a little odd now to walk onto the crowded campus grounds in complete anonymity, with only two guards closely accompanying him. The rest of the team on duty had arrived earlier and were circulating unobtrusively around the area. 

Younghyun, on the other hand, had been deemed a liability insofar as any anonymous guarding was concerned, and was instead tasked with appearing at the festival with minimal disguise in order to draw away attention from wherever Dowoon would be. 

It seemed to be working, from the snatches of conversation Dowoon could overhear ("I saw him on the west quad tailing someone in sunglasses," the young man at the _baduk_ club booth had told Dowoon). Dowoon, in the meantime, had had happily bought snacks for Sergeants Han and Kim (Ye-ri noona and Ji-soo hyung, for the day), taking pleasure in the fact that he could slouch all he wanted and not have to keep trying to copy the Seoul broadcaster accent that King Dowoon spoke with. 

"Think you'll spot the King today?" asked the student manning a booth that sold some kind of crushed strawberry and soy milk drink, over the whir of the blender. She was wearing a Sungkyunkwan Softball t-shirt with a plushie strawberry safety-pinned to her chest. The entire bottom half of the counter was covered by a giant poster that read, ‘ _HELP US BUY A NEW BATTING MACHINE’_.

"Are people really looking out for him?" Dowoon asked.

"I guess," said the strawberry girl. "It's really good luck, apparently," she added, handing him his drinks. "One of my sunbae in the softball team spotted the King in second year and got a 4.0 GPA during her finals."

" _Daebak_ ," said Dowoon, being careful to turn his notes face-side down as he paid her. "I'll keep my eyes peeled." 

Elsewhere, a coalition of the history, theatre and photography clubs was really leaning into the campus’ historic roots and running a full photography and cosplay service on the campus grounds. 

“We have three concepts,” said one of the students, who was dressed as a magistrate. “Timeslip, Joseon zombies, or a romantic company in which a young lady cross-dresses as a scholar, fooling her two kind-hearted and handsome roommates.” 

“This third scenario is extremely specific,” observed Sergeant Han.

“Isn’t that the plot of _Sungkyunkwan Scandal_?” asked Dowoon, who had absorbed at least two thirds of that drama by osmosis through his noona watching it in the background while he gamed.

“The plot of what?” said the magistrate, looking puzzled. 

“Never mind,” said Dowoon, waving his hands. He turned to Sergeant Kim. “Hyung, how do you feel about being a handsome and kind-hearted roommate? Or a… Joseon zombie?” 

“The zombies are actors from the musical theatre division of our club,” the magistrate added hurriedly, “so you’d mainly be pursued by them.” 

“I would not like to be pursued,” said Sergeant Han, who had previously been on the national taekwondo team and had reportedly made a number of guards cry during the yearly close combat bootcamp.

“Timeslip it is, then,” said Dowoon brightly, because it would be far easier to explain him keeping his pollen mask on for the photograph. 

While Sergeants Han and Kim were changing into their costumes (having made eye contact with Staff Sergeant Yoon and another guard who were lingering nearby while casually eating odeng), Dowoon hung around the booth chatting with two of the zombies, who were speculating about who the top-billed star in the secret concert lineup would be.

“My friend who’s working the sound booth today said it’s gonna be EXO,” said the zombie who spoke with a strong Australian accent. 

“I don’t know about that,” said the other zombie, “I’m just bummed that Pojangmacha aren’t playing this afternoon.”

The Australian zombie’s eyes widened. “They aren’t? Weren’t they taking cover requests and everything?”

“Cancelled,” said the other zombie. “Apparently Min-ho sprained his wrist this morning and they’ve been frantically looking for a replacement drummer, it’s a nightmare.”

Later, Dowoon would maintain that he had only done what he did because of how despondent the two zombies had looked. A public service, he would say. Lifting the spirits of the Youth of Corea. 

The truth was that nobody, not even Dowoon himself, could explain why, in that moment, he had decided to reach over and tap the Australian zombie on the shoulder. 

“Did you say you were looking for a drummer?” 

\---

_Sungkyunkwan University Student News_  
**Sungkyunkwan Spring Festival: Starting the Spring Semester with a (Royal) Bang**

The culture of student festivals dates back to 600 years ago in Sungkyunkwan, the only national university in the Joseon Dynasty period. It is with this rich history and culture in mind that students at Sungkyunkwan University now celebrate the annual Sungkyunkwan Spring Festival. 

This year, the festival was vibrant as ever, with a record number of over a hundred and twenty booths selling trinkets, snacks, and alcohol, as well as providing creative costume rental and photography services across scenic locations in the historic campus. 

The concert lineup, too, was star-studded, and included acts such as Mamamoo, three members of EXO, and popular trot singer and actor Yook Sung-jae performing at the university’s baseball stadium. 

However, the festival’s biggest surprise happened on the much smaller stage in front of the historic Myeongnungdang building, and was also only discovered after the fact. The frontwoman of Pojangmacha, a popular student band, revealed on SNS that the band had played a set in the afternoon with a mystery drummer, who had stepped in after the band’s regular drummer had sprained his wrist while rock climbing.

The mystery drummer, who had been wearing a mask and glasses, was later recognised by other members of the student body who had spotted the same figure visiting booths and talking to students. Students and alumni of the university are now convinced that this was His Majesty the King.

“I thought he seemed kind of familiar,” said Pojangmacha bassist and second-year Economics major Hwang Hyun-jin. “But we didn’t talk much because we had a whole set list of covers to run through.”

“I didn’t notice when he visited our booth, because he was speaking in Busan dialect,” said Choi Ji-su, a third-year Media and Communications major. “But later I overheard Captain Kang saying something about drums while running in the direction of Myeongnungdang. When I saw the pictures, I put two and two together.”

“He _totally_ looked like a student,” said Felix Lee, an exchange student from Australia. “I had a whole chat with him about learning Corean language. When he heard that the band needed a drummer, he offered to help. Before I knew it, he was playing with them, and he was pretty good. Then later my friends told me that it’s a tradition for the King to visit Sungkyunkwan in disguise sometimes, and that might have been him?” 

As with previous years, the Palace Office has not expressly confirmed the King’s visit, but instead released a statement which said, “ _The incognito visitation of Sungkyunkwan has long been a royal tradition, ever since King Sohyeon took it upon himself to personally ascertain that the scholars were indeed allowed to freely exchange their thoughts and ideas. We congratulate the students of all universities across the Kingdom on the commencement of their Spring semester, and wish them every success._ ” 

Sungkyunkwan University is commonly known as the King's university, as Joseon Kings and princes historically attended there. While His Majesty did not study at Sungkyunkwan University, he holds an honorary degree by virtue of his office. 

If it was indeed His Majesty who had paid us a visit, we sincerely thank him for joining us and hope he had fun!

- _Han Ji-sung, student reporter (2nd year, Public Administration)_

\---

Because nobody had actually recognised Dowoon until long after he had left the university grounds, he wasn’t officially in trouble for what he had done. The Press Office had simply released the usual lines, and the Department of Public Engagement had in fact been rather pleased at the spike in positive sentiment toward the Crown amongst young people aged between 18 to 35.

Younghyun, on the other hand, was a different story. 

He hadn't been in the party that had escorted Dowoon back to the car after Dowoon had slipped away during the band's attempt to buy him a celebratory drink. Instead, he had remained on campus grounds until Sergeant Han had confirmed that Dowoon was aboard the helicopter back to Busan. 

Later, after Dowoon had been subjected to an exhausting flurry of debriefs and a silent dinner alone, Younghyun had appeared at the door to Dowoon's bedroom.

"Hyung," Dowoon had begun to say, but had fallen silent upon catching sight of the look on Younghyun's face.

In the years that he had known his own Younghyun, Dowoon had seen him annoyed countless times -- shooting one of them a warning glare while still smiling for the cameras, or grumblingly telling them off for making too much noise in the green room. But these were momentary squalls that passed quickly, faster still if one made the effort to smooth things over.

He had never seen Younghyun like this, though: carefully blank, with an expression so polite and neutral that it hurt more than if he had just been angry. 

"I am glad to see Your Majesty is well," Younghyun had told him.

"Hyung, I'm sorry," Dowoon had said. "I know you must have been worried--"

"No need to apologise," Younghyun had replied, and there it was, that faintest edge of anger in his voice. "Please rest, it's been a long day."

Without giving Dowoon a chance to reply, Younghyun had left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

 _What do you do_ , Dowoon texted Wonpil, after several miserable minutes of sitting on the floor, _if you've made a mistake and someone's really angry with you?  
_  
A good ten minutes later, Dowoon's phone buzzed in his hand.

 _Good afternoon_ , Wonpil had replied, _what's this I'm reading about you playing the drums :)_

And then: _if the someone who's upset is who I think it is, then I'd say he was more scared than angry._

Dowoon squinted at Wonpil's message. _What do you mean?_ he typed back.

 _You should talk to him_ , was Wonpil's reply.

 _When_ , Dowoon wanted to ask, and _talk to him about what_ , and _how?_ but even as he began to type he knew that these were things he would need to work out on his own. 

Seeing no end in sight to his stewing over this if he just remained where he was, Dowoon got up and opened his bedroom door, poking his head outside. He was relieved to see that the guard on duty was Corporal Nam, who never minded a chat and who had been the one to procure the stash of instant noodles Dowoon had cooked in the pantry the other night. 

"Hyung," said Dowoon, causing Corporal Nam to turn in surprise. "Do you know where Younghy-- where Captain Kang went?"

"Probably back to his quarters," Corporal Nam replied. "Does Your Majesty wish to summon him?"

"Yes," Dowoon began to say. Then he paused. "On second thought…"

It was only on Dowoon's express instructions that Corporal Nam did not inform the Guard of His Majesty's impending visit to the Guards' quarters, which was a cluster of buildings located in the south of the Palace grounds. 

While this had saved its residents a panicked scramble to get presentable enough to greet Dowoon, it also had the unfortunate side effect of badly startling Staff Sergeant Yoon, who had been lying on the low wooden _pyeong-sang_ in the courtyard of the east wing.

It's okay!" Dowoon whispered, flapping his hands as Staff Sergeant Yoon scrambled to his feet. "Pretend I'm not here!"

"His Majesty would like to see the Captain," said Corporal Nam, giving Staff Sergeant Yoon a helpless look.

Perhaps Dowoon should have called ahead, he reflected, when Younghyun answered the door having clearly just come out from the shower. 

He stood blinking, in an old navy-coloured t-shirt that bore the faded Guard insignia and with his hair still damp, as Staff Sergeant Yoon gestured helplessly at Dowoon.

"His Majesty -- Captain -- uh."

Younghyun looked from Staff Sergeant Yoon to Dowoon, and seemed to arrive at the correct conclusion because he nodded to Staff Sergeant Yoon. 

"Thank you Sergeant," he said. "I will escort His Majesty back to his quarters."

As Staff Sergeant Yoon left, visibly relieved, Younghyun turned to Dowoon. 

"Yes, Your Majesty?" His face was still unnervingly neutral. 

"I brought snacks," said Dowoon, holding up a bag of assorted sweet and savoury foods that he'd purchased from the private stash Corporal Nam and some of the other junior Palace Office staff apparently maintained (at a significant markup, because he didn't want to just take the snacks but there hadn't been time to find change). "We could eat them. Together."

At this, Younghyun frowned, which Dowoon took as a positive sign. Sure enough, after a pause, Younghyun sighed, and opened the door the rest of the way. 

"Come in, then," he said.

At first Dowoon had thought that the exterior of the Guards' quarters had been designed such that they would blend in with the rest of the Palace architecture. On entering Younghyun's room, however, it seemed more likely that they had refurbished existing _hanok_ , judging by the high, slanting ceiling and the exposed crossbeams and rafters. It was a lovely room, though, located on the second floor with a short but wide window at the far end that looked out onto a dimly-lit garden. 

The furniture in the room, on the other hand, was stolidly standard-issue; from the metal bedframe to the large wooden desk which were both somehow the same shade of grey. Hanging outside the cupboard beside the bed were several sets of uniforms and suits, still in their dry-cleaning dust covers. 

"I'd offer you a hot drink but my kettle just broke," said Younghyun, pulling out the only chair in the room (an office chair by the desk, also grey) and offering it to Dowoon. 

Gingerly, Dowoon sat down, trying and failing not to stare at the photographs on Younghyun's desk. One of them was of Younghyun and his parents, standing on some stone steps in front of a building with many columns, Younghyun in a graduation gown and cap and all three of them beaming at the camera. Another was of just his parents in hats and sunglasses on a staircase at what might be Angkor Wat.

"Water?" said Younghyun, interrupting Dowoon's blatant gawping. He reached for a large plastic jug on the end of the study desk and poured some water into the only mug he seemed to have.

"Thank you," said Dowoon, accepting the mug and then holding on to it because he didn't know what else to do with his hands. 

Younghyun, now deprived of his chair, sat down on the end of his bed. 

"You didn't have to come all the way here," he said, while Dowoon was still casting about for something to say.

"Wo-- Well I thought it would be better if we talked," said Dowoon. 

Younghyun shook his head. "Like I said--"

"I'm sorry that I took off like that without telling you or any of the other guards," Dowoon continued quickly, before he could lose his nerve. "I'm sorry that… I didn't think. It must have scared you."

"Scared me?" Younghyun said in a quiet voice. "Do you know how difficult it would have been for us to get to you in the middle of that crowd? If they'd realised who you were and mobbed you, or if someone had been tailing you and was waiting for a moment exactly like that -- you, onstage, giving them a clear shot."

He didn't sound angry, Dowoon realised. He sounded exhausted.

"Hyung, I'm so sorry," said Dowoon. "It must be -- you must be so tired."

Younghyun shook his head again, then lifted his feet from his room slippers and drew his knees up to his chest. He looked a little like Dowoon's Younghyun had looked, during those years when he'd been studying on top of doing everything else. Like if the moon shone through the window at this moment it would reveal him to be paper thin.

"It's unfair of me to expect you to understand," said Younghyun, after a long moment.

"I could try," said Dowoon. 

Younghyun glanced over at Dowoon, and something in his expression seemed to give. When he spoke again it was with the faintest of trembles in his voice.

"Imagine this -- imagine me, returning to this room one evening only to get a call from the guards on shift, saying that His Majesty has disappeared. Imagine combing through the CCTV footage and finding one video, one single video, in which His Majesty walks through the door to the drawing room and doesn't appear on the other side."

Younghyun paused; pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes.

"When I was twelve, my father did exactly that," said Younghyun. "I didn't see it -- but that's what I was told. Three weeks later, he came back. He could have died, everyone said. Dowoonie -- His Majesty was so pleased, even though he'd just lost his own father. He hugged my _appa_ like he was his own father back from the dead, because he was happy I wouldn't be alone like him. And so I did what any twelve year-old boy might do in that situation -- I swore to protect him with my life."

Privately, Dowoon thought that it took a very particular sort of twelve year-old boy to make a decision like that.

"And earlier today, well. You're right, I _was_ scared. I am, very much so," said Younghyun. "I didn't protect him, in the end, did I. And I can't lose -- Well."

"You couldn't have protected him from what happened," said Dowoon kindly. "I didn't even know it was happening until it happened."

When Younghyun frowned, Dowoon added, "Also he's probably very safe where he is, because nobody wants to kill me." He paused. "Probably. And all the hyungs will take care of him. Younghyun-hyung -- my Younghyun-hyung -- will feed him, and Sungjin-hyung can drive His Majesty to the museum to look at the records, and Jaehyung-hyung will beat him at League of Legends probably, or feed him too. And Wonpilie-hyung might even be persuaded to taste his food for him."

Younghyun gave a helpless sort of laugh at that. 

“His Majesty probably misses you very much,” said Dowoon, scooting over to Younghyun on the office chair. “Younghyun-hyung probably wouldn’t open any doors for him, or rescue him from convenience stores when he tries to pay with money that has his face on it.” 

“The Corean won is legal tender,” said Younghyun, the corners of his mouth twitching. 

“Try telling that to the convenience store people,” Dowoon replied gravely, which had the intended effect of making Younghyun snort. 

“You must miss them,” said Younghyun, after a pause. “You must miss playing the drums.” 

“As much as you miss His Majesty,” Dowoon ventured. When Younghyun didn’t reply but just rested his chin against his palm and looked down, Dowoon figured he must have been correct. 

There was nothing he could say that would reassure Younghyun -- how could there be, when Dowoon was as much trapped in this world as King Dowoon was in Dowoon’s. So instead he scooted back towards the desk where he’d left the bag of Corporal Nam’s snacks, and opened a packet of Homerun Balls. 

Later, when Dowoon had been safely escorted back to his quarters, he pulled out his phone and sent a ‘ _thank you_ ’ to Wonpil. 

Wonpil’s reply came a few minutes later: _All sorted?_

 _I guess,_ wrote Dowoon. And then: _You were right_. 

_:) :)_ , Wonpil replied, and Dowoon thought back to that third photograph he’d seen in Younghyun’s room, pasted discreetly on the side of the closet which faced away from the door and towards the bed: Dowoon in a graduation gown with longer sleeves and a funnier hat than Younghyun had been wearing in his own photograph, his right arm slung around Younghyun (in a suit and tie, hands folded politely in front of him), while on his left was Wonpil, whose arm was looped around Dowoon’s. 

If he had been the Dowoon in that picture, Dowoon wondered, would he have wanted this? Duty over all else, at the expense of… so much. Dowoon, who didn’t have a king’s mind nor his burdens, could not understand any of it: why Younghyun had made the choice he did; why Dowoon had let him. Why there was even the need to choose in the first place.

\---

** Dazed Digital | 10 Corean Indie Bands to Look Out For **

**10\. Pojangmacha**

Pojangmacha was in the news recently for performing with a substitute drummer who later turned out to be (allegedly) the King of Corea. But even before that, the band, made up of students from Sungkyunkwan University, has been well-known in underground circles as being one of the most interesting and inventive new groups around. 

With their mix of vintage sounds -- the viral video of their performance with the mystery drummer featured a cover of EXO's hit single 'Howl' done in 1950s style -- and dexterous references across musical traditions -- their lead vocalist was a student of pansori master Ro Jung Mi, who also scouted and trained pansori 'National Treasure' Park Jaehyung -- Pojangmacha is surely a band to look out for.

Soundcloud: www.soundcloud.com/pojangmacha

\---

But whatever calm after the storm Dowoon might have been looking forward to was disrupted the very next day, when Younghyun had appeared in Dowoon's bedroom and actually physically shaken him awake. 

"Huh -- whu --" said Dowoon muzzily, attempting to sit up but falling back onto the pillows due to uncoordination and the general slippyness of the bed.

"You have a visitor," said Younghyun, breathless like he'd run here, protocol be damned. "And I think you'd want to hear what he has to say."

And so it was that Dowoon shuffled out into the drawing room, dressing-gown hastily thrown over him because Younghyun had assured him that that was the amount of formality he would require, to find Jae waiting for him together with the Head Court Lady and Sungjin. 

Jae looked very much like he may not have slept, judging from how he was still wearing parts of what must have been his performance clothes from the night before, his hair sticking up in tufts that must surely be driving Sungjin slowly mad.

"Jaehyung-hyu--" Dowoon began, before remembering that maybe that wasn't what King Dowoon called Jae. "-nim?"

Jae gave Younghyun the very same unimpressed look Dowoon had seen his own Jae deploy countless times. 

"He knows," Younghyun told Dowoon.

"What -- how?" asked Dowoon, sinking down into one of the armchairs opposite Jae. 

"I've seen His Majesty play the drums before and it wasn't anywhere near how you were playing," said Jae. "Also, during our super fun night out with the esteemed Director Bong, pickler of livers, Captain Kang got _very_ drunk."

Everyone whipped round to look at Younghyun, who was quickly turning a bright shade of pink.

"I'm quite sure I didn't--" he began.

"You didn't say anything to _us_ , sure, but I had to overhear the voice message you were trying to leave for one Kim Wonpil-sshi while squeezing you into a taxi," said Jae. "About how you 'missed Dowoon'."

"Ah," said Younghyun, sitting down very suddenly.

"And that, coupled with --" Jae turned back to Dowoon. "I've received awards from His Majesty and dude, you're not fooling me."

"So Jaehyung called me," said Sungjin, "and before I could say anything he started talking about parallel worlds."

"How is it that you know of this, young man?" asked the Head Court Lady.

"So we’re all aware that there were originally twelve song cycles in the repertoire of _pansori_ stories," Jae began.

"Uh," said Dowoon, to echoed 'no's from Sungjin and Younghyun. Only the Head Court Lady was nodding along. 

"Okay," said Jae, with a grimace. "You just need to know that there were twelve, and the common belief is that only five have survived."

"Common belief?" said the Head Court Lady.

"Yeah, well,” Jae replied. “Master Ro’s master taught her a sixth _madang_.” 

Once again, only the Head Court Lady appeared to grasp the significance of this. “Go on,” she said, leaning in, while the rest of them exchanged blank looks. 

“It’s not a secret among the masters, although it seems that Master Ro is one of the few who was taught it in full,” Jae continued. 

“Why hasn’t it been recorded?” asked Younghyun. “If people are aware of it?” 

“Well, to put it simply, it’s a very strange piece,” said Jae. “Structurally, it’s framed as six dreams of a King, in which he visits his different selves and gains wisdom. At the midpoint of the sections, you have a song about the making of a flute that calms ten thousand waves -- a retelling of the _manpasikjeok_ folktale, if you will.”

“A flute!” Dowoon repeated, sitting up. 

“Because it’s so strange, pansori masters can’t agree on whether the version we have now is authentic,” said Jae. “Which is why it’s been passed down but seldom performed. Also, we don’t know how the flute passage in the middle is supposed to sound.” He reached over to the stack of folders that had been placed on the coffee table, and flipped open one folder to the page where, amidst what was presumably his transcription of the music, he’d simply written the words ‘ _flute interlude?????_ ’ in English and left the rest of the page blank.

“That’s very interesting,” said Sungjin, “but I still can’t see how you got from that to… _this_.” He gestured towards Dowoon. 

“The whole bit about dreaming about his different selves has always been a bit puzzling to the masters,” said Jae, running his hand through his hair in a way that made it tuft up even more. “And trust me, there have been loads of theories about what it means that he visits a version of himself as a peasant, and then the next dream he’s a general in a war that never happened, and… you get the drift. But if you step back and look at it, doesn’t all of this just sound like --”

“Dimension travel,” said the Head Court Lady. “The Court records say nothing of this, because which King would freely speak of such things? But in a song, on the other hand...”

“Exactly,” said Jae. “Look, I’ve been studying this stuff for years and I’m feeling vindicated as hell right now.”

“Does it…” Dowoon began. “Does it say how he goes back, though?” 

At that, Jae paused. “I can’t say for sure, but there is a theory,” he said. “In the first three songs, the King’s entry into each dream is described in terms of falling -- ‘A Dream of Fire’, for example, begins with the line, ‘ _the sun tilts into the moon and is consumed_ ’."

"But after the middle passage about the gifting of the flute _manpasikjeok_ to King Sinmu, there is no reference to falling in the introductory lines of the remaining three songs," Jae continued. "Instead, each song begins with the line, ‘ _the King walked_ ’.” 

“The usurper could pass between worlds at his own choosing," said Younghyun. "But Dowoon can't."

"Yeah," said Dowoon, "I just… fell."

“Perhaps we were correct in deducing that the flute had to be played,” said the Head Court Lady. “Only we do not know the notes.” 

Younghyun stood. “I will ask my father if he remembers anything more of what the usurper did,” he said. “Although I don’t think his memory has gotten better since thirteen years ago.” 

“Hang on,” said Sungjin. He turned to Jae. “Do you have an idea of when this… this--”

“Song cycle,” Jae supplied.

“Yes, that,” said Sungjin. “When was it written?”

“There wouldn’t be an exact date,” replied Jae, “and it would have been refined and recompiled over the years as it got passed down. But from the structure of the piece, it’s likely that it dates back to the late 17th century.”

“During the time of King Sohyeon?” asked Sungjin. 

“Quite likely, yes,” said Jae. “Where are you going with this?”

“Well,” said Sungjin, “when I was advising the curators for that royal fashion exhibition, we did an inventory comparison just to keep a record of the items that had been destroyed in the vault fire fifteen years ago.” 

“Yes,” said the Head Court Lady, “I remember that. We caught the culprits but only discovered that the usurper was behind it after he had committed his treason.” 

“Among the items, wasn’t there some kind of musical scroll that was destroyed in that fire?” said Sungjin. “From King Sohyeon’s personal library. I remember one of the senior curators being very upset when she saw it on the list.” 

“ _I’m_ upset,” said Jae, looking agonised. “If it had been from King Sohyeon’s personal library he may well have written it himself, and -- _oh._ ”

Dowoon and Younghyun exchanged looks. 

“It is possible,” said Younghyun, “that the fire was merely a distraction from what had actually been stolen.” 

“Then we’re back where we started, aren’t we?” said Dowoon. “I mean… he probably stole the scroll because it had the notes he needed to play or something. But we don’t have the scroll, and it’s not like they made copies.” 

For a moment they all sank back in disappointment, except for the Head Court Lady, who stood up suddenly from her seat. 

“Perhaps there is somebody who might have done exactly that,” she said, sweeping towards the door. “Let me make a telephone call.” 

\---

 **Buried Treasures: Construction of Orthodoxy in the Pansori Repertoire**  
Park Ye-eun  
_Yearbook for Traditional Music_  
Vol. 32 (2015), pp. 17-30

In Ro Jung Mi’s oral history of her tutelage under the late _pansori_ master Sim Hak Gyu, she recalls the proud day on which she mastered the ‘five pillars’ of the _pansori_ repertoire to her teacher’s satisfaction. “And then he turned to me and said, ‘now I will reveal to you the buried treasures',” she states, before going on to recount her discovery of a repertoire beyond the repertoire: the uncodified and unrecorded ‘sixth pillar’. While common knowledge among masters of _pansori_ , this sixth _madang_ , or song cycle, has never been recorded or publicly acknowledged as being part of the core repertoire of pansori stories. This paper will examine the reasons for its exclusion, and critique the assumptions underlying the construction of the ‘orthodox’ _pansori_ repertoire. Realigning what scholars and practitioners consider to be legitimate in the canon of _pansori_ would serve to enrich our understanding and enjoyment of an intangible cultural heritage that has, of late, received renewed appreciation both in Corea and the world.1

—

1 I would like to thank His Royal Highness Prince Buyeong of Corea for the generous loan of his extensive collection of manuscripts in West Sussex, Lee Bonggeun and Park Jaehyung for their expert advice, and three anonymous reviewers for their comments on this paper.

\---

Once it became clear that the Head Court Lady would take a while to make her phone call, the four of them adjourned quite naturally for breakfast, which had originally been intended for the members of the Press Office and Department of Public Engagement who were supposed to give Dowoon his morning briefing but had been asked to come back another time. From what Sungjin had heard, the group of them had left, somewhat relieved, and sent their youngest members to pick up breakfast toast from a trendy cafe that had just opened near Haeundae Beach. 

“Ah,” said Sungjin now, as they settled in to eat. “ _Doenjang guk_. Lovely.” 

Jae, on the other hand, had made a funny gesture towards his throat and lapsed into silence after asking for a cup of warm water. Younghyun, too, had gone quiet, seemingly still gathering his thoughts after the morning’s events. 

They ate in silence for several minutes, Dowoon glancing up every now and then to see if the Head Court Lady would return with any news. 

At length, Younghyun spoke. “Jaehyung-hyung. Did I say anything else -- on the phone…”

Jae glanced up from his rice with the eloquent look of, _are you seriously asking me this here_.

“Never mind,” said Younghyun, returning to his food. 

Jae sighed, and then reached within the inner pocket of his jacket to pull out a notepad and pen. As he scribbled his reply, Sungjin craned his neck to read it aloud. 

“ _No you -- fool -- you -- just -- talked about -- Dowoon_ ,” Sungjin read, “ _and -- asked why -- Wonpil -- wasn’t answering._ ” Sungjin paused, squinting at the final words. “ _But pathetically,_ ” he added, nodding up at Younghyun. 

“Thank you, that’s quite enough,” said Younghyun, who was turning pink again in a way that made Dowoon, as a person whose reddening ears frequently betrayed him, fully sympathise. 

“That’s strange,” said Sungjin. “Wonpilie usually answers, or calls back.” 

Jae dashed off another reply. 

“ _One_ \--that’s a ‘one’ in arabic numerals -- _can’t -- you all -- just -- use KaTalk -- like -- normal people_ ,” Sungjin read. “Hey,” he said to Jae, before continuing, “ _Two -- the line -- was engaged -- I tried -- too -- ‘cause -- Brian was -- sad_.”

“Um,” said Dowoon, valiantly trying to intervene as Younghyun sank lower and lower into his soup, “it was kind of because… Wonpil-hyung was talking to me.” 

All three of the others looked up at Dowoon. 

“What,” said Sungjin, while Jae stared. Younghyun put down his spoon. 

“I found his number in one of my coat pockets,” Dowoon explained. 

“And you just decided to call him?” asked Sungjin. 

“Yeah,” said Dowoon weakly, while Jae muttered something under his breath that sounded like ‘ _KaTalk_ ’. “I guess I just missed him.”

Jae was now scribbling on his notepad again. 

“ _You -- know him_?” Sungjin read.

“He knows all of us in his world,” said Younghyun quietly. “Apparently we’re in a band and we live together.” 

Jae and Sungjin exchanged looks. 

“Does Wonpil know?” asked Younghyun. “That you’re not --”

Dowoon nodded. “I told him, and I guess he believed me.” 

Jae, in the meantime, had written something on his notepad. 

“ _Okay -- but -- who’s the -- lead -- vocalist_ ,” Sungjin read, while Jae fixed Dowoon with a stare honed through years of _pansori_ intensity. 

“...all of you,” Dowoon replied. “All my hyungs sing.” 

Sungjin turned to Jae. “You find out you’re in a band with us in a parallel world and _that’s_ what you want to know?” 

Jae shrugged. 

“I wanted to tell you,” Dowoon said to Younghyun. “But I didn’t know when, and…”

“Is he well?” asked Younghyun, so hopeful and tentative that Jae broke his silence. 

“What the hell, dude,” Jae exploded. “You could just text him?”

“I do!” Younghyun protested.

“But? But what?” said Jae. “Please don’t say only on holidays and birthdays.”

“This perilla leaf kimchi,” said Sungjin to Dowoon, over the deafening sound of Younghyun’s guilty silence, “is extremely good. Would you like some?” 

“Yes please,” said Dowoon.

“Oh my goodness,” said Jae, burying his face in his hands. “Fling me into a parallel world, I can’t handle this.” 

“Jaehyung-ah, mind your voice,” Sungjin said, patting Jae on the arm. 

Younghyun, in the meantime, resumed eating his second bowl of rice with an expression that said that he would not be entertaining any further questions. 

Even so, Dowoon thought as he chewed on some very excellent perilla leaf kimchi, it was nice to be here with these hyungs who were not his hyungs, seated at the same table having breakfast without having to observe all the courtly formalities. He wondered if it had been like this, in London, away from the Palace and the ceremony of it all. 

As they were about to finish breakfast (and Younghyun his third bowl of rice), the Head Court Lady returned. 

“Thank heavens His Royal Highness is a night owl,” she said, sweeping into the room. “I bring good news. Prince Buyeong, in his youth, made it a project to transcribe various texts from King Sohyeon’s library. One of them was the musical scroll, and a full copy of it is still in his possession.” 

“...who is Prince Buyeong?” asked Dowoon, trying to recall his lesson on the royal relatives.

“His Majesty’s Grand Uncle--” said Younghyun.

“--Wonpil’s grandfather,” said Sungjin at the same time. “Who lives in England.”

“Ah,” Dowoon said. 

“If he can send scans of the score,” said Jae, “I should be able to convert the notation into something Dowoon can read.” 

“I did ask,” replied the Head Court Lady. “But he says the pages are very fragile. So I took the liberty of asking if he would be amenable to the Palace sending someone to collect it.”

“Someone from the embassy could make the drive to Bognor Regis first,” said Younghyun. 

“That won’t be necessary,” said the Head Court Lady. “His Royal Highness volunteered his grandson to bring it over. I understand he was devising a shopping list of souvenirs when I said goodbye over the phone.” 

“ _Does -- anyone -- know the -- Heimlich -- manoeuvre,_ ” Sungjin read from Jae’s notepad. “ _Younghyun -- might be -- choking -- to -- death._ ”

\---

 **park jaehyung’s vibrato** @fellytone  
[SLEEPLESS WITH TABLO Live Translation Thread] - Ep XX

Steven Yeun is visiting the studio because he’s in Corea filming a feature with Dir Lee Chang-dong. Said they tried playdates but Steven’s kids are babies and Haru basically becomes their babysitter

 **park jaehyung’s vibrato** @fellytone  
[SLEEPLESS WITH TABLO Live Translation Thread] - Ep XX

T: and now it’s time for ‘Nightcall with Tablo’ -- we are taking calls from everybody and anybody who’s up on this Friday night  
(‘Nightcall’ by Kavinsky plays)  
S: nice, that’s a good track, man

 **park jaehyung’s vibrato** @fellytone  
[SLEEPLESS WITH TABLO Live Translation Thread] - Ep XX

They just got a call from #PARKJAEHYUNG I can’t believe it  
Steven congratulated him again for just receiving the order of merit earlier that evening  
T: why are you even calling a radio show right now?

 **park jaehyung’s vibrato** @fellytone  
[SLEEPLESS WITH TABLO Live Translation Thread] - Ep XX

J: my agent told me to  
T: oh you know there are some things you don’t need to mention on live broadcast  
S: how’s it going man?  
J: I'm good, just hanging out eating jokbal

 **park jaehyung’s vibrato** @fellytone  
[SLEEPLESS WITH TABLO Live Translation Thread] - Ep XX

T: okay cool, do you have a song request or something  
S: why is there so much noise in the background  
J: hang on, one sec, imma put Director Bong on the line  
(General yelling from Tablo and Steve)  
T: what a FLEX

 **park jaehyung’s vibrato** @fellytone  
[SLEEPLESS WITH TABLO Live Translation Thread] - Ep XX

So Tablo and steven Yeun just greeted Director Bong (I’M screaming what on earth)  
He just requested that they play [Don’t You Worry](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m78etvVHEeA) by Deulgukhwa

 **park jaehyung’s vibrato** @fellytone  
[SLEEPLESS WITH TABLO Live Translation Thread] - Ep XX

T: do you want to dedicate it to anyone?  
J: we want to dedicate this to brian (? t/n: dk who this is)  
J: brian, you total lightweight  
Bong: if you find love you should hold on to it. We are rooting for you!

\---

In all the time that Dowoon had known either Younghyun, he had never seen him behave the way he did in the four days leading up to Wonpil's arrival.

First of all, after he'd finished choking on what turned out to be nothing but his own feelings (as Jae eloquently put it), Younghyun had tried to drink some water and had immediately choked again, causing the Head Court Lady to shake her head and sweep off to speak with someone from the Palace Office about drafting the letter of invitation that would allow Wonpil to enter the country. 

In the days that followed, Younghyun continued to function as per normal apart from the fact that he would sometimes trail off mid sentence and get a look on his face that was alternately worried and elated. 

"He only had two bowls of rice," Corporal Nam told Dowoon, "and when Staff Sergeant Yoon asked if he was going to finish his _kkori gomtang_ he just gave the rest to the Sergeant."

Since Jae had declared Dowoon's self-taught flute skills lamentable, he had taken it upon himself to give Dowoon personal lessons. Younghyun would often disappear during these sessions, and it later transpired (on reports by Sergeants Han and Kim) that he was apparently spending that time looming around the quarters that were being prepared for Wonpil, unnerving the staff. This was ostensibly for some sort of 'security inspection' but Sergeant Han (who was in fact in charge of guest security) had at one point overheard him asking someone about memory foam pillows.

"You need to _chill_ ," said Jae one night, after Younghyun had been physically led back to the drawing room by the court lady in charge of housekeeping, and deposited in a chair next to Dowoon like a child found lost at the supermarket. 

"I am very chill," said Younghyun, trying to prop his elbow on the arm of his armchair and missing. 

Dowoon played a sad trill on the flute.

All of this culminated in an incident on the last day, when Younghyun had apparently gotten distracted in the middle of a football match with middle-schoolers from a football programme for the underprivileged, and had been hit in the face by the ball. 

"Oh no," said the boy who had done the kicking (whom Dowoon had been marking), as Younghyun sat down on the pitch in surprise.

"He's had worse knocks," said Dowoon, trying to be comforting. "At least, I think so."

"That's going to bruise," said Staff Sergeant Yoon as he helped Younghyun off the pitch.

The boy, who was one of the youngest in the group but whom Dowoon privately thought might do very well for himself on some kind of football scholarship, began to cry. 

"Oh no," said Dowoon. "Don't cry, Captain Kang will be okay."

"I know," sobbed the boy, "but my _noona_ will kill me."

Sure enough, standing off to the side with some of the other volunteers was a girl around high school age who was glaring daggers across the pitch at her brother. 

Thankfully for everyone involved, Younghyun was not badly hurt and could even return for the second half after spending some time pressing an ice pack to his face.

"Uh," said Dowoon later, after they had said their goodbyes to the children and were on their way back to the Palace, "do you think you should have some kind of time off until Wonpil arrives tomorrow?"

"Time off?" said Younghyun, the same time that Staff Sergeant Yoon and Sergeant Han said, " _Yes_."

"Yeah," said Dowoon. "Maybe you can do something relaxing… like watch a drama and do a sheet mask," he added, thinking desperately back to what his _noona_ used to do before a date she was looking forward to. 

"Or security check Wonpil- _daegam_ 's empty quarters for the sixth time," said Sergeant Han. "As long as you don't bother housekeeping _at all_ , which includes not asking them about whether they can install blackout curtains."

"Do I want to know," said Staff Sergeant Yoon dryly.

"It's to help with _jet lag_ ," Younghyun protested from under his ice pack. 

In the end, it was Sungjin who came through with the best idea, which was to make Younghyun go for a nice long soak at the bathhouse just outside the Palace grounds.

"I'll make sure he stands in the hottest room," said Sungjin, as he led Younghyun away. "Don't worry, Your Majesty, I'll bring him back nice and exfoliated."

“Sungjin-hyung is the best,” Dowoon replied, giving him a double thumbs up before turning back to his phone, where he had been fielding messages from Wonpil for the past two hours ranging from _do I need to pre-book my seat on the airport bus_ to _how much money should I change??_ to _i’m so late help!!!_

_Remember your passport_ , Dowoon sent back, and then also copy-pasted the message from the Palace Office _noona_ who was handling Wonpil’s pickup. _Someone will pick you up at the airport so stop looking up buses_ , he added. 

There was silence from Wonpil for some minutes, presumably as he loaded himself into a taxi to Heathrow airport. And then: _if my check-in baggage is overweight should I eat the jaffa cakes or the lemon curd?_

 _I don’t know what those are_ , Dowoon replied. 

“Sweet orange sponge biscuits, and a type of dessert spread,” said Jae, reading over Dowoon’s shoulder.

But Wonpil had already moved on to other concerns. _What if they ask me what’s in the diplomatic bag?_

Jae held out a hand for Dowoon’s phone, which Dowoon surrendered with some relief. “The point of a diplomatic bag,” Jae read aloud as he typed, “is that they _don’t_ ask. This is Jae. Stop worrying and just get your butt on that plane.” 

He hit send, and then stowed the phone pointedly into his pocket. When Dowoon tried to reach for it, he fixed Dowoon with a glare and said, “Do you want to know what happened the last time someone tried to use a phone during a masterclass I was teaching?” 

“I’m your Head of State,” said Dowoon, even though this line had thus far worked on exactly no one apart from Corporal Nam.

“Nice try,” Jae replied. “I have dual citizenship.” 

\---

**Archive of Our Own**

## 1 - 20 of 435 works in Corean Royalty RPF

**reign of love (away get carried)** by **bingfool**  
Corean Royalty RPF

 **No Archive Warnings Apply** , King Dowoon of Corea/Kang Younghyun, King Dowoon of Corea, Kang Younghyun, Park Jaehyung, Character Study, Growing Up, The London Days, Slow Burn, and I mean SLOW

“And the childhood companion of His Majesty, Kang Younghyun, is said to be never far behind, a perfect shadow who joined the Guards in his second year of high school in order to fulfil his oath to protect the King...” (The Dong-A Ilbo in 2013)

Kang Younghyun makes a promise, comes of age, falls in love, and does his duty. Not necessarily in that order.

Words: 25,350 Chapters: 9/10 Comments: 124 Kudos: 270 Bookmarks: 74 Hits: 3012

—

 **Pongdang Pongdang** by **kapsoonie**  
Corean Royalty RPF, 샘이 깊은 물은 | Water From a Deep Spring (TV)

 **Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings** , King Dowoon of Corea/Kang Younghyun, Sohyeon of Joseon/Kang Younghyun, King Dowoon of Corea, Kang Younghyun, Sohyeon of Joseon, Time Travel, Joseon Era, Comedy, Romance, Drama, this was supposed to be cute, but I couldn’t avoid the angst

_He blinked awake to find Dowoon peering down at him, dressed -- oddly -- in the blue robes of a Crown Prince._

_“How curious,” Dowoon said, and Younghyun realised that this was not Dowoon at all._

The one where Captain Kang time travels. Basically I can’t unsee how much Nam Joohyuk as King Sohyeon in _Water from a Deep Spring_ looked like King Dowoon, and so I’m dragging all of you down with me.

Words: 34,488 Chapters: [18/18] Comments: 78 Kudos: 132 Bookmarks: 15 Hits: 2284

—

 **Saudade** by **nandomou**  
Corean Royalty RPF, Corean Music RPF

 **Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings** , King Dowoon of Corea/Kang Younghyun, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Kang Younghyun/Park Jaehyung, King Dowoon of Corea, Kang Younghyun, Park Jaehyung, Canon Divergence, Kang Younghyun moved to Canada, Singer-songwriter!Kang Younghyun, Happy Ending

“Come with me to Busan,” says Jaehyung, never mind that Younghyun doesn’t have Jaehyung’s awards and success; isn’t going to be appearing on television with EXO or taking over Lee Seung-gi’s refrigerator endorsement any time soon.

But Younghyun goes anyway, promptly gets his heart broken, and then runs into a childhood friend trying to keep a low profile at a student bar...

Words: 11,392 Chapters: 1/1 Comments: 42 Kudos: 118 Bookmarks: 9 Hits: 1334

—

 **Perhaps Love** by **hoxy**  
Corean Royalty RPF

 **No Archive Warnings Apply** , King Dowoon of Corea/Kang Younghyun, King Dowoon of Corea, Kang Younghyun, Princess Hours AU, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dowoon is a commoner, Younghyun is the Crown Prince, Fluff, endless fluff

Younghyun knew that he should be prepared to do many things to secure the throne, but he never expected that entering into a fake relationship with Yoon Dowoon, penniless college student, would be one of them.

Words: 7,203 Chapters: 2/? Comments: 26 Kudos: 68 Bookmarks: 15 Hits: 901

\---

The arrival in Corea of Kim Wonpil- _daegam_ of Reading, eighth in line to the throne, was marked by a total of not one but three security incidents. 

The first, which was really more like half an incident, involved a customs officer noticing a funny shape in Wonpil's suitcase, and Wonpil, when asked about what was in "the bag", clamming up immediately and stiffly reciting the words that the embassy staff in London had written down for him to say if anyone tried to seize his diplomatic bag. 

This odd behaviour had only aroused more suspicion on the part of the customs officer, who had then called the Foreign Office telephone number as per Wonpil's spiel and received an earful about holding up a delivery intended for the Royal Court. In the meantime, another customs officer had opened up Wonpil's decidedly non-diplomatic suitcase and ascertained that the funny shape was in fact two jars of lemon curd overlapping each other in a nest of socks and pyjamas.

The second security incident was significantly more catastrophic than the first, since it involved the entire receiving party somehow failing to spot Wonpil as he emerged from the arrivals gate and only realising they had lost him after he had boarded an airport transfer bus and was well on his way into Busan city. 

Younghyun had thankfully been preoccupied during the first security incident, on account of Dowoon having recruited Captain Kang to help play the recorder while Dowoon led the children of the Busan City Hall Open Library King’s Reading Programme in what had now become their weekly toy instrument ensemble session. Wonpil’s bus escape, however, had coincided with Story Time, which meant that Dowoon had glanced up in the middle of ‘ _Pororo: Catch the Bread Thief!_ ’ to see Younghyun hissing instructions into his headset. 

“I knew Staff Sergeant Yoon should have gone with them in the first place,” said Younghyun, after he’d arranged for Staff Sergeant Yoon and another contingent of Palace Office staff to assemble at Haeundae Bus Station and Dowoon had said goodbye to the children. “Why did they only bring his recital programme photograph?” 

“Hyung, it’s going to be okay,” said Dowoon, patting Younghyun on the shoulder. The last time he’d seen any Younghyun this silently panicked was back when Younghyun had been studying for final exams while simultaneously preparing for the launch of their comeback single. 

“Of course,” Younghyun replied, with the unnervingly blank expression of someone who was rehearsing fifteen different worst-case scenarios in his head. 

The third security incident came to light after two airport transfer buses had come and gone without any Wonpil in sight, and Dowoon had looked at his phone while in the car and found a series of text messages from Wonpil which read:  
_  
so so so sorry but I think I’ve taken the intercity instead_

_I’ve disembarked and I’m somewhere in Gimhae?_

_don’t worry I’ll get this Sorted_

_oh! I’ve met these lovely university students who said they’ll give me a ride. see you soon!!  
_  
There was a long and silent moment after Dowoon had finished reading these messages aloud, in which Younghyun had said nothing and Corporal Nam had given Dowoon several bewildered glances through the rearview mirror. 

Then Younghyun gave a resolute sigh, and turned round to look at Dowoon. 

“Your Majesty,” he said. “May I have permission to please fetch him myself?”

“Well,” said Dowoon, considering this. “If I come along, they can do the thing with the traffic lights that lets you go faster.” 

And so it was that Kim Wonpil- _daegam_ was finally received by the Royal Court on the highway shoulder of the Namsan Expressway, just after the North Busan toll gate. 

Bearing witness to this were the dozen students from the Daegu University hiking club who had charitably offered Wonpil a lift to Busan Station in their van, only to have all of a sudden been asked to stop by an equally befuddled toll booth operator. They had goggled at the sight of the royal convoy coming to a halt beside them, and then again at Younghyun emerging from the passenger seat of the car and walking calmly towards the van. 

Dowoon had, on Younghyun’s instructions, remained in the car with Corporal Nam and Sergeant Kim, who had come round to replace Younghyun while he went to collect Wonpil from the university-students-slash-potential-kidnappers. The three of them now watched avidly as the van disgorged first Wonpil, clutching the diplomatic bag to his chest, and then, with the help of some of the hiking club, two very large suitcases.

“Do you think he called him _daegam_ ,” murmured Sergeant Kim, as they watched Younghyun endeavour to take both suitcases as well as the diplomatic bag, notwithstanding that he only possessed two arms. Wonpil waved flusteredly at him, trying to take at least one of the bags, and then there was a whole thing where their hands may have brushed, because they sprang apart and Wonpil stuffed his hands into his pockets. 

“Undoubtedly,” said Corporal Nam, resting his chin on the steering wheel.

In another universe, thought Dowoon, watching Wonpil turn and head towards the car, Younghyun trailing heavy-laden beside him, the two of them barely daring to look at each other. In another universe, this wouldn’t be their first meeting in three years. In another universe, they would have an embarrassment of riches: time, space, the rare luxury of doing the thing they loved together. 

Here, however, they stood barely a metre apart but with a gulf of yearning between them. Yet Dowoon couldn’t help but hope: for if it were indeed possible for Dowoon to walk from one world to another, he thought, surely theirs was a distance far easier to cross. 

\---

**—ford School Students' Newsletter**  
** Question Time With: Mr Wonpil Kim **

_Each issue, the intrepid student journalists of —ford School will demystify the lives of our very own faculty with their hard-hitting, no-holds-barred interviews. This issue, we speak with Mr Wonpil Kim, a man of mystery best known for his love of Pororo, his boyish good looks, and that one time he let the brass ensemble play Ring Ding Dong on the Parade Ground. But who is Mr Kim when he's not having to put up with our shoddy papers and the out of tune trombone section*? Let's find out._

* _There, we said it._

**Thanks for agreeing to be interviewed, sir.**

I said yes to this at the start of term, but that was before I saw the extremely cheeky one you lot did with Miss Olawumi. I have regretted my decision since.

**Well, thanks for being here anyway.**

You've just cornered me at brass ensemble practice.

**Bit loud, aren't they?**

I'd thank you to please respect the deafening tradition of brass excellence we have here at —ford School.

**So we know you studied at the Royal College of Music. What's your favourite memory of university?**

Wouldn't you like to know. ( _Laughs_ ) I enjoyed meeting and learning from the very talented individuals who were my tutors and classmates.

**Any dreams of going professional at the time?**

Teaching's a profession. 

**I see you're keeping your cards close to your chest, sir. That's not quite in the spirit of this newsletter.**

What _is_ this newsletter anyway? ( _Sighs_ ) Oh all right, go on. 

**What's the most interesting performance you've done before?**

Well, while I was at the RCM, I played the harpsichord with a baroque ensemble. That was quite fascinating. 

**What's it like going from the dulcet tones of Bach played as it was meant to be heard... to the auditory tsunami of Elgar’s Severn Suite being blasted in perpetual fortississimo?**

I refuse to participate in the slander of my beloved ensemble.

**It's libel, sir, because this is in print.**

Well I'm glad you lot know the difference.

**Have you got any hobbies?**

Why do I feel somehow attacked by this question? Yes, I have hobbies -- I caught a very lovely performance of _Lucia di Lammermoor_ at the Royal Opera House the other weekend. I’m also in the faculty football league, but we recently lost to St Michael’s just over the hill, so there goes the rest of the season. And I do try to find time to read -- I’ve been quite enjoying Park Ye-eun’s _A Brief History of Pansori_.

**We think many of our readers would be interested to know if you attended this opera performance with a special person in your life.**

You vastly overestimate their interest. 

**Sorry if we weren’t clear, sir -- _is_ there a special someone in your life?**

Well, that’s none of your business. Has Tom [ _Ed. note: Walpole, Head of English and the newsletter committee’s benevolent overlord_ ] seen these questions? 

**Curious minds want to know. But, moving on nonetheless: last year on your birthday, you presided over a debate on the motion ‘Pororo is superior to Pingu’. Which _is_ superior?**

Pororo, obviously. But the Opp team deserved the win for pressing on against all odds. 

**Now for the lightning round: if you could play any instrument besides the pianoforte, what would it be?**

Oh goodness, how do I decide? Maybe the bassoon.

**Interesting choice. Favourite composer?**

Pass. You can’t make me choose.

**Fair enough. Favourite football team?**

Reading FC. 

**Favourite snack?**

If you think you’re about to trick me into saying _Couque D’asse_ \-- oh, d***. 

**Several recent alumni claim to have seen you arrive at school in a big black car that was all diplomatic and suchlike, back in your first year of teaching. What do you say to that?**

Myths and legends.

**Is it true that you come from an illustrious Corean family?**

I have an uncle who lives in Patagonia.

**And finally, do you have anything to say to the first years (and others) who currently harbour massive crushes on you?**

I'm not dignifying this with an answer. But to everyone in general -- please be kind to yourselves.

**Thanks for being a good sport, sir.**

I'm going to have a word with Tom about these questions. [ _Ed. note: he didn't_ ]

\---

When Dowoon had first arrived at the Palace just less than two months ago, he had been overwhelmed first by the scale of it, and then by its beauty. For it was as beautiful as it was sprawling: beyond the imposing beauty of the Throne Hall, or the pavilions and gardens so often pictured in calendars and posters, there were the King’s quarters, nestled within a network of smaller buildings that were used for more intimate receptions and for the receiving of guests. 

While the Throne Hall had its lofty ceilings and ornamented pillars, these lesser halls shone in other ways -- with the painted screens which had caught Dowoon’s eye the first time he’d been brought through their passageways, and the smaller rooms, wood-panelled and gold-accented, some of them opening into the large, slightly wild-looking garden that was the King’s courtyard. 

“Don’t gawk,” Younghyun had told him, the morning after he’d arrived, and over time he’d learned to walk through the grounds and buildings as if these were sights he’d seen all his life. 

Now, watching Wonpil, Dowoon had a sense of how he must have looked in those first days -- glancing every which way as they walked, the amazement clear on his face. Younghyun walked just behind him, carrying the diplomatic bag (he had been relieved of the suitcases after Palace staff had transported them directly to Wonpil’s quarters). He, too, moved as if he were in a daze, but instead of looking around, his eyes were fixed on Wonpil as if he couldn’t quite believe this was happening. 

“Well, all this is rather… terrifying,” said Wonpil, after they’d passed through the grand passageway lined with portraits of past kings, and at long last found themselves in the drawing room, where the Head Court Lady was waiting. 

“ _Daegam_ ,” said the Head Court Lady, her face crinkling into a smile. “Do you remember me?” 

Wonpil’s eyes grew wide as he looked at her. “ _Imo_ \-- from that… the coming of age ceremony!” 

Younghyun and Dowoon exchanged looks. 

“You’ve met?” Younghyun asked. 

“During His Majesty’s first trip to England,” replied the Head Court Lady. “You went with him, remember? His Majesty was fourteen, but Wonpil- _daegam_ had just turned fifteen. It would have been remiss of the Palace not to send a gift, and since we were already in the country I travelled down to Bognor Regis while His Majesty was at Buckingham Palace.” 

“My _eomoni_ still has the _hanbok_ you brought me,” said Wonpil. He looked over at Younghyun. “Did I never tell you about the impromptu _gwallye_ ceremony we had in my _harabeoji_ ’s garden? The one where he’d called all his friends from both the _baduk_ and golf clubs, and they kept telling me I’d become a man and offering me beers while _appa_ just ran around trying to make them stop?”

“You did, but you never mentioned that Lady Noh was there,” Younghyun replied. “And that story was always just the preamble to the one about how you tried your first cigarette.”

Even witnessing this briefest of exchanges felt to Dowoon like he was intruding on something that should have been private. Earlier, in the car, between Wonpil apologising for the detour to Gimhae and falling into a deep sleep with his head pressed against the window, there had been a moment where he’d reached forward and across towards the passenger seat and touched Younghyun’s sleeve.

“Hyung, have you been well?” he had asked, and for a second Dowoon (and Corporal Nam) had been made painfully aware of how much it felt like he was releasing a long-held breath. 

“Yes,” Younghyun had replied, his fingers going white around the handle of the diplomatic bag he was still holding in his lap. 

“Good,” Wonpil had said, and he seemed about to say more before he’d interrupted himself with a jaw-cracking yawn. 

Now, the Head Court Lady was laughing. “I can tell you a thing or two about your _harabeoji_ when he was fifteen,” she said. “But first, you should get some rest.”

“Actually,” said Wonpil. “Now that we’re not inside a car or making our way through the imperial labyrinth…” 

He turned to Dowoon. “You’ve had a journey and a half,” he said fondly, and pulled Dowoon into the most crushing hug he could manage with his narrow arms. 

“Hyung,” Dowoon gasped, as the air was squeezed out of his lungs. Tears sprang to his eyes, which he wasn’t sure were due to all the feelings he was feeling at being hugged for the first time in weeks, or simply the sheer force of Wonpil’s attack. “Can’t -- breathe --”

And then, having completed the two tasks he had set out to do, Wonpil stepped backwards and sat down very suddenly on a nearby ottoman. 

“I’m very sorry,” he said, “but it looks like I might need a nap after all.” 

Later, after Jae had arrived and had been installed in one of the studies to transcribe the manuscript, Dowoon joined Younghyun in the task of unpacking Wonpil's two suitcases of gifts. Wonpil, by this time, was fast asleep in the room that Younghyun had inspected close to eight times over the past five days, but had apparently given Younghyun sleepy instructions as to the contents of his bags.

“These will need to be refrigerated,” said Younghyun, pulling out several different types of chocolates from one suitcase. 

There was, Dowoon noted, a marked difference between the contents of the two suitcases -- one of them seemed more meticulously packed, and was filled with biscuits and teas that came in teal-coloured tins of different sizes. It also contained a bottle of whiskey and two letters, one of which was addressed to the King and the other to the Head Court Lady. 

“All this seems to be from Prince Buyeong,” said Younghyun, as Dowoon examined a white sticker label affixed to a tin of tea that read, in the beautiful but semi-illegible script of someone quite old, ‘ _For Lady Noh_ ’. 

“Wonpil-hyung did say something a few days ago about having to re-buy presentable gifts to his _harabeoji_ ’s satisfaction,” said Dowoon. 

“Yes,” replied Younghyun, “he _would_ insist that everything come at least from Fortnum’s.” 

The other suitcase, on the other hand, was clearly packed by Wonpil, for it was a haphazard explosion of things, including but not limited to: a dozen different boxes of biscuits, two jars of what must have been the fabled lemon curd, the chocolates Younghyun had taken out (which had included a giant golden rabbit-shaped one that Wonpil had written the words ‘KUM-HYUNG’ on in felt tip pen), and a case of cider. Nestled in between all of this were Wonpil’s clothes, balled and rolled up in various ingenious ways in a desperate attempt to cushion the cardboard packaging. 

“This is for you,” said Younghyun, pulling out a packet of Hobnobs which Wonpil had scrawled the words ‘DOWOONIE’ on. (Even in his packing frenzy Wonpil had thought of everything, Dowoon noticed -- there was a second packet of Hobnobs that said, 'H.M. DOWOONIE' with a little crown on it.)

“Wow,” said Dowoon, as Younghyun lifted the case of cider out of the suitcase. “How did he carry all of this up the bus to Gimhae?”

“Kind strangers helped, probably,” Younghyun said, sounding rather far away as he stared at the ‘ _Younghyun-hyung_ ’ written far more neatly on the corner of the box. 

And then, setting aside the cider, Younghyun turned back to the bag and started re-folding all of Wonpil’s mangled clothes. There weren’t very many of them, since Wonpil was only staying for the weekend before returning to teach his Tuesday classes. As Dowoon watched Younghyun carefully match a pair of dress socks with tiny Pororos embroidered on them, he felt, once again, a sense of deep unfairness rise in his chest. 

Before he knew it, he was rising to his feet with a mumbled excuse, leaving Younghyun behind in the antechamber as he strode out of Wonpil’s quarters, which was separated from the King’s by a small courtyard. After some enquiries with one of the Palace Office noonas, he made his way down from the King’s quarters to the large pavilion on the lake, where the Head Court Lady was supervising preparations for the welcome dinner. 

She rose when she saw Dowoon coming, and when he reached the entrance to the pavilion, she smiled. 

“You looked exactly like His Majesty, walking along that bridge,” she said. 

“Lady Noh,” said Dowoon, “why is it that Wonpil cannot stay?” 

For a moment, the Head Court Lady said nothing, but the expression of her face was unsurprised, like she had been waiting for this question to be asked of her. 

Finally, she nodded. “His Majesty asked a similar question, the year he was due to leave London,” she said. “He made a compelling case, in fact.”

“But he’s the King,” said Dowoon. 

“The King has advisors,” the Head Court Lady replied. “And it was felt -- Prince Buyeong included -- that it was ill-advised for His Majesty to lift the restriction on the extended royal family at the time. He was a young monarch of barely twenty-two years, who had witnessed treason just one generation before. We thought it more prudent to limit any threat to the throne.”

Dowoon nodded mutely, burying his hands into the folds of the modern _hanbok_ Sungjin had pulled out for him earlier that morning. It was easy to forget, amidst the stillness and beauty of the Palace, that such peace had been a tenuous one. The old Hall of Artefacts still stood as a memorial to the previous King, flowers and vines springing from the floorboards and climbing the pillars of the chamber where he had been slain. The Hall's contents were now displayed in a gallery at the royal library, just east of the Throne Hall. 

“But things can change, can’t they?” said Dowoon. “The King can still decide.”

“I see you’ve remembered your lessons,” said the Head Court Lady. “Matters concerning the Royal family are one of the few things for which the King may still exercise his sovereign discretion.” 

Dowoon paused. “Aren’t you going to remind me that I’m not actually the King?” he asked. 

The Head Court Lady gave Dowoon a searching look. “If you will excuse me,” she said, after a pause. “I must attend to the preparations.” 

And with that she swept away with some instruction for the kitchens, leaving Dowoon with his thoughts by the lake. 

\---

**Dramalentils: First Stills of Nam Joo Hyuk, Kim Go Eun and Woo Do Hwan for Winter Is Jealous Of Flowers**

New stills were released today from the highly-anticipated adaptation of the popular webtoon, _Winter Is Jealous Of Flowers_ , which is set in an alternate version of the Kingdom of Corea where the royal relatives were allowed to remain in the country.

 **Kim Go Eun** ( _Goblin_ ) plays Seo Eun Ji, a former taekwondo champion who is tasked by the Crown Prince's sister ( **Gong Hyo Jin** , _When Camelia Blooms_ ) to pose as a Royal Guard in order to spy on the Crown Prince's cousin ( **Woo Do Hwan** ). 3rd in line to the throne and recently returned from England, the royal cousin's aloof and awkward manner wins him no favour in the royal court. 

As she takes on her new role (masquerading as a man for reasons explained), she also meets the Crown Prince ( **Nam Joo Hyuk** , continuing his royal streak after playing King Sohyeon in the critically-acclaimed _Water From a Deep Spring_ ), a bright young man whose sunny disposition belies a deeper secret.

Here, we get a first look at Kim Go Eun both in and out of disguise -- first in her taekwondo gear, and then looking fresh-faced and not particularly convincing in the male Royal Guard uniform. 

Nam Joo Hyuk, in the meantime, seems to be attempting to sneak out of the palace grounds (is that a hoodie sticking out from the collar of his hanbok?) but runs into Woo Do Hwan, who is returning to the palace, suitcase in tow.

Expectations in Corea are high for this one. The webtoon was a sensation in the Kingdom, and sparked renewed interest in the obscure area of constitutional law which deals with the King's prerogative as to whether the extended royal family may enter the country. While that prohibition doesn't look like it will be lifted any time soon in real life, we legumies can still enjoy the cross-dressing, bromantic and rom-com shenanigans in this drama instead. 

**125 COMMENTS**

**lalune**  
Incredibly excited for this!!! Perfect casting in my opinion, although of the three leads Nam Joo Hyuk is probably the weakest link in terms of acting. Then again, the role is well within his range (and he's shown tremendous improvement even just during his run as King Sohyeon), so I'm very optimistic. 

**Peach**  
I hope the adaptation does the webtoon justice! It's packaged as a romcom and definitely delivers in that regard, but the webtoon was also wonderfully complex in what it explored, like the relevance of the royal family in modern Corea, and the use of history in the building of a nation's narrative. 

And then of course there's the sheer FEELS of moments like the taekwondo scene, which I hope they include because it's iconic!

 **shimkoong**  
Just say 'Woo Do Hwan' and I'll be there!!! have not read the webtoon though, would you recommend it? How does it end??

 **Peach**  
@shimkoong, I would highly recommend the webtoon! The production team have said that they may explore a different ending, but the webtoon ends with the Crown Prince abdicating to pursue his music dreams, and the royal cousin (who over the series proves himself to be the more suitable ruler) assuming the role of Crown Prince.

I don't know if they'll end up changing the ending in order to avoid offending the Palace? but to me it was perfect. 

**berrywaffle**  
I like how the official production synopsis says that the Crown Prince has a deep secret even though ANYONE who has read 2 chapters of the webtoon (or the first paragraph of the wikipedia) would know that he basically is secretly apprenticed to a _pansori_ master.

 **lalune**  
@berrywaffle Yes!!! It's hilarious. Also I read some Naver comments that said that apparently Park Jaehyung will be recording all the singing parts for the Crown Prince.

 **berrywaffle**  
@lalune omg I have chills just thinking about it, it's going to be so good. Also someone please give Jaehyung a cameo in this drama I Beg you.

\---

By the time Dowoon returned to the King's quarters, Wonpil had awoken from his nap long enough to insist that no, they really didn't need to throw him a full welcome banquet at a _pavilion on a lake_ , the kitchen will be fine, wherever it is, which is how they had arrived at the happy compromise of eating in the dining room where breakfast meetings were usually held. 

"Where have you been?" asked Wonpil, as Dowoon attempted to sidle into his seat unnoticed, notwithstanding that nobody would have started without him. 

Wonpil looked considerably more refreshed now that he had slept and showered off the effects of a fourteen-hour flight and a 1-hour bus ride in the wrong direction. In his slightly rumpled button-down shirt and a worn but well-fitting jacket, hair falling into his eyes, he looked almost exactly like Dowoon's Wonpil in a way that none of the other hyungs did. 

"He's frozen in shock all over again," said Jae, whose tufted up hair stood as testament to the intense transcribing he'd been doing earlier. "He gave me exactly the same look at the order of merit ceremony."

“Are we all quite ready to eat?” asked Sungjin, sounding slightly irritable at having to hold off from starting on the tableful of truly impressive side dishes. 

The Head Court Lady had clearly obtained some intelligence as to Wonpil’s favourite dishes, for there was no end to Wonpil’s surprised delight at the parade of food that emerged. 

“How will we finish all this?” Wonpil cried, nibbling at some marinated crab. Beside him, Younghyun looked determined. 

It felt a little like attending a reunion of university friends, except for the fact that it had been a different Dowoon who had gone with them. Wonpil talked about his life at the school with his lovely but cheeky students, and gave general updates on the current situation with Jinyoung and Jaebeom (Dowoon privately noted the fact that JJ Project was apparently a thing which transcended realities), while Sungjin told the story about how he’d run into his awful housemate from when he’d been at Central Saint Martins at Busan Fashion Week and they’d had a stoic but friendly meal together. 

Jae, whose time in London had just preceded his _pansori_ superstardom, spoke about how he’d just recently managed to convince his manager-hyung to renew his contract for another term. 

(“You mean long-suffering Dongwook-hyung never managed to quit?” asked Wonpil. 

“Excuse me,” said Jae. 

“The man went to London with you when all he ever wanted was to direct his own runway show!” Wonpil replied.

“Younghyun went to London with Dowoonie --” Jae began, then shook his head. “Never mind, that’s a whole different thing.”)

Only Younghyun and Dowoon didn’t speak much, Dowoon because he was happy to listen to his hyungs talking, and Younghyun because he was dividing his time between eating, making sure Wonpil’s plate always had some bit of food on it, and just staring at the side of Wonpil’s face in a way that was unnerving for everyone except, apparently, Wonpil.

“Dowoon-ah,” said Sungjin, when they’d finished recounting the time Jinyoung, drunk off his face, had accidentally locked himself out of the Belgravia house he’d apparently been living in with other Dowoon, Younghyun and Wonpil, and had inadvertently triggered the entire security response system while trying to let himself in. “Sorry we’ve just been talking about the past.”

“I don’t mind,” said Dowoon, resting his elbows on the table since he was quite certain Younghyun was not about to stop him. “It sounds like it was a lot of fun.” 

“How about your hyungs,” said Jae. “What are we like, in this band that I’m not the lead singer of?”

“Oh, uh,” Dowoon began, feeling flustered all of a sudden at how their attention was suddenly turned on him. “My hyungs -- we have fun, too. Everyone writes the songs, although Younghyun-hyung writes most of the lyrics, and…” 

He paused, struck suddenly by a familiar pang of homesickness, as he looked into the faces of these hyungs who were not his, not exactly: not the Younghyun-hyung who would hum operatically in the background and dote on Dowoon together with Wonpil; nor the Jaehyung-hyung who’d trash talk Dowoon about League of Legends and then patiently run through the English phrases Dowoon wanted to say on tour. This Sungjin-hyung wasn't prone to fondly picking Dowoon up by the scruff of his shirt and physically moving Dowoon aside whenever he got in the way.

As for this Wonpil, well. This Wonpil could probably tell what Dowoon was thinking, because he said, gently, "You'll be seeing them soon, Dowoon-ah."

And that was the thing, really. For as much as Dowoon yearned to go back, it was becoming increasingly clear how much he would miss _these_ hyungs, who had their own history and their own lives and their own Dowoon, and yet had taken Dowoon in so easily and kindly. And Younghyun, especially -- who had been guarding Dowoon with his life even though his oath was to protect another Dowoon. 

“Thank you, everyone,” Dowoon mumbled, looking down at his plate because it would be weird if he cried, he _shouldn’t_ cry, not here -- 

“Yah,” said Sungjin, “we’re not _that_ bad, are we?”

Dowoon laughed, but he couldn’t stop himself from crying either, so it came out as a weird teary chuckle that made Jae reach over and thump him on the back. 

"You'll make us all cry if you're not careful, Dowoonie," said Wonpil, while Younghyun placed some _bulgolgi_ on Dowoon's plate.

The moment passed, much to Dowoon’s relief, and they progressed swiftly to drinks, which they had out on the _pyeong-sang_ in the King’s courtyard. Sungjin, it turned out, was a lusty singer when drunk, and proceeded to go toe to toe with Jae in belting out trot and other pop hits in a deafening but beautiful duet that could undoubtedly be heard as far south as the Guards’ quarters. Younghyun, in the meantime, had had just enough soju such that he didn’t jump when Wonpil looped an arm around his, and even cracked a smile when Wonpil yawned and leaned his head against Younghyun’s shoulder. 

Dowoon simply swayed along, providing percussion backup with bottles and the _anju_ bowls where needed. It could have been the soju, or the peaceful cool of the night interrupted only by the sounds of Jae and Sungjin singing their hearts out, but as Dowoon sat there, he was struck by a sense of rightness, of alignment; like if he could take the pages of each reality and lay them over each other, he would maybe find this -- this space, where the boundary between each world thinned enough to see the _something_ that invariably tied them together. 

The thought came to him and left as quickly as a half-familiar tune, and before Dowoon could really turn his attention to it, he was being hauled to his feet by Jae and Sungjin for a rousing chorus of _Perhaps Love_.

Later, Dowoon returned to his room (accompanied by Sergeant Han, for Younghyun had been deployed to help Wonpil find his way back to his quarters) to find a folder from the Palace Office on his study desk. 

“That was fast,” Dowoon mumbled to himself.

Within the folder was a very officious-looking document printed on fancy paper that bore the King’s _mugunghwa_ crest, accompanied by a note from the Palace Office. _As per Your Majesty’s instructions_ , it read, _we have prepared the draft edict which will lift the prohibition on the extended royal family entering the Kingdom, which shall have effect once signed and sealed by Your Majesty, and published in the Gwanbo (Official Gazette)._

Carefully, he checked the contents of the edict, reading over the slightly old-timey phrasing and puzzling at the _hanja_ at the bottom that may or may not be his own name. After he had confirmed that it said what he had wanted it to say, he placed the folder back in the centre of the desk. Then he pulled out a notepad from one of the drawers, found a pen, and began to write. 

\---

**The Six Dreams of a King - Ro Jung Mi version** **  
_(As transcribed by Park Jaehyung)_ **

**19\. (The King’s Fourth Dream.) The King dreams of land while on a sea voyage.**

**[Aniri / Narration]** The King walks.  
Sleep eludes him in the tossing of the waves.  
The vessel creaks, the King calms his heart.  
From his cabin he walks, through sea spray and mist.  
He walks until his feet are on dry ground, only then does he stop.  
“Good,” he says, and searches for an inn.

 **[Song mode]** He arrives at the inn and sees a man within.  
Lo, he weeps.

 **[Jinyangjo]** 1 “You tell me, ‘Weep not,’ in the drought,  
For soon there will be rain,  
And the sorghum and the millet will fill the fields like dew on grass.  
You tell me, ‘Weep not,’ in the flood,  
For the seedlings carried away may be planted anew,  
The land sullen with tears will yet yield.  
You tell me, ‘Weep not,’ as you bear me away,  
Away from the sorghum and the millet, from the seedlings and the grass,  
To fire, and the flash of spears.  
When may I weep?  
When may my heart’s sorrows spill over?”

 **[Aniri]** The King’s heart is moved, and he asks,  
“Who is it who bids you not weep, who bears you away into hardship2?”

 **[Jajinmori]** The man scoffs.  
“Who else but the sage, moved to defeat the evil of the  
Mountains and the streams?  
Who else but the one who wields the four-tiger sword,  
Who yokes us with duty but vanishes like mist in the sunlight?  
Yes, the King bids us, yet he does not aid us,  
His name rattles hollow like a forgotten thing.”

1In the alternative, the _jungmori_ pattern in _gyemyeonjo_ mode may be used; however, Master Ro recommends the slower _jinyangjo_ rhythmic pattern for greater dramatic effect.  
2Alternative: “to your sorrow”.

Notes: In this song, the King experiences the suffering of the soldiers sent to fight in a war he does not remember (some postulate that this is either him dreaming of a different time, or of a different reality). He is swept along as an unknown soldier, and through his time on the battlefront learns the sorrows of his compatriots. This is a technically difficult section, with passages requiring the same energy and technique as the more challenging parts of _Jeokbyeokga_ (the Battle of Red Cliffs). Master Ro said that she learned it with great difficulty as the styles required in the middle sections of this song are rarely used by female singers. At the end of the song, the King makes his fourth vow, which is to bring together those who have parted and to not easily spend the people’s lives in battle.

\---

Dowoon found Wonpil the next morning, out by the willow-lined pond in the garden just beyond Wonpil’s quarters. He was seated on a bench inside the small gazebo overlooking the pond, knees drawn up to his chest, one socked foot curled over the other. 

When he saw Dowoon coming, he scooted further down towards the end of the bench.

“How did you know I was here?” Wonpil asked, as Dowoon sat down beside him. 

“Staff Sergeant Yoon told me,” Dowoon replied. Earlier, when Yoon had come by to make the morning call that Younghyun usually did, he had also given Dowoon a general update on where his guests were (Jae and Sungjin had been found rooms as well, and were reportedly still fast asleep inside them). 

“Ah,” said Wonpil darkly. “I suppose they have to keep track.” 

“I think it’s more of a... taking care of guests thing,” said Dowoon, waving his hands. “If that makes it better. Younghyun-hyung would have -- ” he paused. “Where _is_ he, anyway?” 

Wonpil turned a little pink. “He was _quite_ drunk last night, as you would recall,” he said, “and then he sort of… fell asleep. On my bed.” 

“I see,” said Dowoon, feeling his ears becoming warm as well. 

“It might have had something to do with the incredible blackout curtains, though,” Wonpil continued. “It was still pitch dark inside the room when I left.” 

“They installed those a few days ago,” said Dowoon, “for your jet lag -- oh.” He paused, and squinted at Wonpil. “Hyung. Why are you awake?” 

Wonpil rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess I couldn’t get to sleep last night -- because of the time difference, and then because there were so many thoughts just jumbled in my head. You know how it is.” 

Dowoon nodded, thinking about the groggy nights on tour when he’d toss and turn on his hotel bed for hours and then suddenly develop a powerful craving for _kimchi jjigae_ at two in the morning local time. 

“Thank you for coming all the way here, hyung,” said Dowoon.

“Nonsense,” replied Wonpil, “it was the least I could do. And _harabeoji_ had himself a wonderful time making all sorts of plans for me.”

“Is there something _you’d_ like to do?” asked Dowoon. "Someplace you'd like to visit, or…"

Wonpil shrugged. “I don’t know if it’s really sunk in, the fact that I’m here,” he said. “It’s always felt so… mythical, almost. Even when I met Dowoonie -- His Majesty Dowoonie, I mean -- the whole idea of him living in an actual palace, of Corea being an actual _place_ you could go to… it didn’t seem entirely real.” He laughed. “I expect I’ll start to wonder if I’ve dreamt it all up, once I’m back at —ford trying to make sure nobody fails their ‘O’ Levels or gets hit in the face by a football. In no particular order.”

“Younghyun-hyung told you about being hit in the face by a football?” asked Dowoon. 

Wonpil’s eyes grew round. “Oh, was that what that bruise was about?” he asked. “He just mumbled something and I assumed he’d gotten it while training with that lovely Sergeant who was in the Olympics.”

“No, there was this child from the football programme…” Dowoon paused. “I should write other me a note about getting him on some sort of scholarship…”

“The Kang Younghyun Football Scholarship,” Wonpil suggested, with a wry smile. “For talented children who actually manage to take the fearless Captain Kang by surprise."

Dowoon laughed. 

"Fast track them to the Royal Guard," Wonpil continued, "I'm sure His Majesty would benefit from the protection of a strong right foot. Or several." And then he paused, and for a second a flicker of sadness crossed his face like he’d just been reminded of something. 

“Do you…” Dowoon began. “Do you resent His Majesty, for not -- for not letting Younghyun-hyung--”

“No,” said Wonpil swiftly. “No, I don’t.”

Hearing how firmly Wonpil said this, Dowoon ducked his head in embarrassment. 

“Besides,” Wonpil continued, gentler this time, “if Younghyun-hyung hadn’t made that promise of his to Dowoonie, I may never have met him.” 

"But hyung--"

"It's going to be okay," said Wonpil, and there was a smoothness to the way he said it, like the words themselves had been worn down from repetition.

This, too, Dowoon was familiar with, because his Wonpil did this also -- grit his teeth and make the best of it; fold whatever hurt it was inside him and wait for it to pass.

“Hyung,” Dowoon began. “What if it was possible --” 

But he never managed to finish that sentence, because they were interrupted by Younghyun crunching along the gravel pathway towards the gazebo. 

He had clearly made some effort to look presentable, having put on his jacket and tie again, but there was no hiding the fact that he was still in last night's clothes, or the way his hair had long since freed itself and was falling into his face. He turned a little pink as Sergeant Kim, stationed some distance away, greeted him with a knowing smile, and pinker still when his eyes met Wonpil's.

"Thank you for the water and the painkillers," said Younghyun, and while his face was carefully blank and his tone neutral, there was something unbearably tender in the way he spoke.

"I may have knocked over a vase while navigating the room," Wonpil replied, uncurling his legs and shoving his feet back into his shoes. "Those blackout curtains are really something."

"Housekeeping," said Younghyun. "They really came through."

If Jae were here and there was a camera somewhere, Dowoon thought, he would be looking directly into it right now.

"I should… go see if Jaehyung-hyung is awake," said Dowoon, almost falling off the bench in his attempt to stand up. "Maybe he's finished the transcription."

Before either Younghyun or Wonpil could say anything, and in blatant defiance of everything the Head Court Lady had taught Dowoon about how a King should comport himself, Dowoon darted out of the gazebo and took off at a run, causing Sergeant Kim to also burst into a sprint behind him.

"See you at breakfast!" Dowoon hollered as he rounded a corner without looking back at them, startling the group of Palace Office staffers who were en route to give him their morning report.

\---

**The Dong-A Ilbo Digital Archives**

King Settles In To First Month At University  
_XX November 2013_

A Palace spokesperson has confirmed that the King has “settled in well” as he begins a three-year course in modern languages and linguistics at University College London.

The King follows in the footsteps of his father, the late King Hyeonjong, in pursuing an education outside of the Kingdom of Corea, King Hyeonjong having attended Magdalen College at the University of Oxford, studying Philosophy, Politics and Economics.

While the King completes his undergraduate degree, his official duties will be undertaken by his sister, Princess Soo-jin, who herself recently returned from her studies at ETH Zurich in Switzerland. 

In the meantime, the Palace has further confirmed that the King has made a courtesy call to Buckingham Palace, and that he will “continue to build strong ties” between the two countries during his time in the United Kingdom. 

On a more personal front, His Majesty has also visited with Prince Buyeong, who is His Majesty’s great uncle and the brother of the late King Hyeonjong. Prince Buyeong and his wife, the esteemed poet Yoon Young-ja, have been living in the United Kingdom since the late King Haejong, His Majesty’s grandfather, ascended the throne. 

The Palace office has not confirmed if Prince Buyeong’s younger son, His Majesty’s uncle, who is styled as Mr. Kim Jung-hoon (formerly Yoon), was present at the meeting. Mr. Kim and his wife also reside in the United Kingdom and have two children. The younger, a son, is a year older than His Majesty and is currently pursuing his undergraduate degree at an unnamed university in London. 

To address security concerns, the Embassy of the Kingdom of Corea in the United Kingdom has released a statement assuring the public that the King’s safety and well-being has been their utmost priority. And the childhood companion of His Majesty, Kang Younghyun, is said to be never far behind, a perfect shadow who joined the Guards in his second year of high school in order to fulfil his oath to protect the King. 

Kang is the son of Captain Kang Sung-soo, the former Captain of the Royal Guard who was presented the Order of Military Merit (2nd Class) for his outstanding service in capturing the traitor Yoon Sang-chul, but famously declined the award due to his shame at failing to safeguard the life of King Hyeonjong.

\---

“And that,” said Jae, marking the last note on his manuscript paper, “is the whole thing.” 

Dowoon peered over at what Jae had written. It didn’t seem like very much, now that all the notes were copied out in staff notation and not the complicated grids of traditional _jeongganbo_ notation. It would have amounted to less than a page, except for the space needed for Jae to write in fingering under each note, in neat rows of circles that were fully or half-coloured in.

“Will you play it first?” Younghyun asked Jae, while Wonpil scanned the sheet music, humming the notes under his breath. 

“Yes,” said Jae, picking up the practice _daegeum_ that he’d been using to work out the fingerings with. “I’m no expert, though,” he added, before lifting the flute to his lips and playing. 

Compared to Dowoon’s novice sound during his previous attempts at the flute, Jae’s tone was steady, with a controlled vibrato. But as he played, the tune itself seemed to eclipse the player, with soaring notes and secretive trills evoking a curious, yearning feeling in Dowoon’s chest. Even on Jae’s decidedly non-magical flute, there was a distinct sense of the otherworldly in the melody that unfolded. After Jae played his last note, the silence that followed felt like a sound of its own, like he had invoked something heavy and tangible that was obscured from the human eye, which filled the small study they were all ensconced in.

“That was lovely,” said Wonpil, at length.

“Well,” said Jae, looking down at his flute like he himself wasn’t quite certain what had just happened. “I guess Dowoon just needs to learn it, now.” 

“Good luck,” said Sungjin, rising from his seat. “In the meantime, I have a meeting with the Department of Public Engagement that can’t be postponed.” 

He paused, and directed a pointed look towards Younghyun. “I hear Haeundae Beach is very nice this time of the year.” 

For a confused second Younghyun just looked from Sungjin to Dowoon, until Jae made an exasperated noise.

“ _Please_ go,” he said. “I don't care where. Dowoon’s not going to learn anything with all of you breathing down his neck here.”

Once the others had left, Jae turned to Dowoon, and held out Dowoon's practice flute.

"Shall we?" he said.

Dowoon was used to this, in a way -- having to sit down and plug away at a piece of music until he _got it_. It was still slow going, even under Jae’s careful guidance, because apparently whichever person it was who had written a magic tune for inter-dimensional travel had also been an extremely proficient flautist.

Yet as he worked through the fingerings and the pitching, it was as if his world was narrowing to just these notes; this elusive tune that he needed to grasp with fingers and breath. He didn’t think about how he’d get back, or whether this plan would really work, or about how his mouth was getting tired. He just played, until his fingers knew the fluid line of the melody; its capricious rhythms and the cresting arc of it.

By the time he was done, the sky outside had mellowed to dusk. 

“Okay,” said Jae, leaning back in his seat with a satisfied look. "I guess now all that's left is to test the theory."

Dowoon's stomach growled. 

"Or we could find something to eat, I guess," said Jae.

They emerged from the study only to run into Sungjin, who had come to collect them on his way to meeting Younghyun and Wonpil. 

"I'm taking them to eat _dwaeji gukbap_ because Captain Kang can't be trusted to find the right place," said Sungjin. 

"But I can't--" Dowoon began. "I mean, would Younghyun-hyung be okay if I went out--"

"Well, Younghyun left Staff Sergeant Yoon in charge when he went off earlier today," said Sungjin, "and Yoon certainly isn't about to prevent His Majesty from having the best _gukbap_ in the kingdom."

"And if Younghyunie does have a conniption," said Jae cheerfully, "your hyungs will take care of him."

"The both of you," said Younghyun, after an incognito Dowoon had been bundled into the back room of the tiny establishment Staff Sergeant Yoon and the team had swept beforehand, "are very bad influences." 

Next to him, Wonpil gave a nervous giggle, which gave way to a jaw-cracking yawn.

“Did you have fun?” asked Dowoon, taking the cushion beside him. 

“We went to Songjeong beach in the end,” said Wonpil. “I took a nap on a beach towel, so I don’t even know why I’m still so tired.” 

“Jet lag,” Younghyun murmured, looking down at his barley tea. 

“Well, while all of you were off frolicking,” said Jae, “Dowoonie worked very hard.” 

“Ah, no,” said Dowoon, feeling his ears going red. 

“Have you learned all of it, then?” asked Sungjin, sounding impressed. 

Dowoon nodded, and then was grateful for the interruption of their food arriving. They ate in ravenous silence (after Younghyun had doggedly leaned over and tasted all of Dowoon’s food despite Sungjin volunteering to do so), Jae and Dowoon having only had a hurried lunch of imperial _kimbap_ at some point during the day, Wonpil hungry from his afternoon at the beach, Younghyun just being Younghyun, and Sungjin intent on savouring the truly excellent food. 

As he ate, however, Dowoon found himself pausing at times to just look around at the others, to seal this picture of them in his memory like one of the photographs in Younghyun’s dossier. Sungjin across from him, looking pleased behind his severe glasses (“Too much needlework in my youth,” he’d told Dowoon, not long after Dowoon had first met him. “He thinks it makes him look more respectable,” Younghyun had clarified); Jae beside Sungjin, so like Dowoon’s Jae now that he’d bleached his hair as part of his management company’s push to have him appeal to the idol demographic. Younghyun, at the other end of the table, not in his suit for once but instead in a somewhat more beach-appropriate linen shirt; sleeves rolled up, just a hint of sunburn on his cheeks. And Wonpil between him and Dowoon, all soft and slightly rumpled in his t-shirt and too-large cardigan, breaking into a smattering of English as he told a story about some elaborate prank his brass band students played.

And Dowoon had had his fair share of _dwaeji gukbap_ in his lifetime, but he wondered now if it would always remind him of this -- the, strange, dreamlike two months he’d spent here, with these hyungs who weren’t his hyungs but yet _were_ , in the uncanniest of ways. 

“Let’s take a photograph,” said Wonpil, who would himself be journeying home in a day’s time. 

So they did, Jae and Sungjin coming round so that Dowoon was in the centre, Wonpil’s arm slung around his shoulder, Jae impertinently giving Dowoon bunny ears until Younghyun gently pushed his hand aside (“That’s His Majesty’s face,” said Younghyun; “I was making a peace sign,” Jae countered). 

“Ready to head back?” asked Younghyun, at the end of it, while Sungjin was settling the bill and Wonpil and Jae were deep in conversation about musical notation. 

Dowoon paused for a moment, and then nodded. 

“Yes,” he said. “I guess I am.” 

\---

**Instagram | @crown_watch • Follow**

[image] [image]  
**crown_watch** His Majesty spotted leaving a _gukbap_ restaurant with Captain Kang and others [heart eyes emoji] [soup emoji]  
#incognito #theking #kingdowoon #coreanroyalty #captainkang #kangyounghyun #royalguard 

**ohcaptain** Captain Kang in that SHIRT and his hair down I’m SOFT this is like london all over again but... with better clothes (sorry captain no offence)

 **maximus95** so I think that’s definitely park jaehyung following behind them (his hair is so recognisable now!), and then park sungjin, the royal tailor. Not sure who the last guy next to Captain Kang is but someone else on twitter thought they recognised him from old london pics 

**bizbizbiz** [wi-fi heart emoji] [heart emoji] [heart eyes emoji]

 **yexu** is it just me or is that guy wearing Captain Kang’s cardigan???? 

\---

When placed inside its elaborate, wood-carved case, Dowoon noted, the flute looked a lot more like a priceless magical artefact than when it had been stuffed on top of a storage shelf with a dozen Day6 posters their managers had forgotten about. Even so, it was hard to believe that this was something to commit treason over, or that Younghyun’s father had almost died -- and the other Dowoon’s father _had_ died -- because of it. 

“Do you want to go over the notes again?” asked Jae, when they had all assembled in the drawing room, together with the Head Court Lady, who had been keeping the flute in her custody. 

Mutely, Dowoon shook his head. Wonpil, who had stood beside him to peer at the flute, gave him a comforting squeeze on the shoulder.

With the flute in hand and all eyes on Dowoon, what had thus far been only theoretical had become impossibly real. Swallowing back his nerves, Dowoon squinted at the score for one last time, then lifted the flute to his lips and played.

The tune had sounded haunting on Dowoon’s practice flute, and more haunting still when played by Jae. But nothing could have prepared Dowoon for this -- the way the music seemed to tremble through him; how the notes seemed almost to bloom unbidden before he could connect thought to breath. It felt less like playing the song than simply slipping into the current of something far more ancient. 

When he arrived at the end of the final, long note, Dowoon paused, and then realised he had shut his eyes. 

He opened them. 

Improbably, _impossibly_ , a gate had appeared in the middle of the drawing room. Not a large, grand one like the ones at the entrances to the palace, but a smaller one similar to the wall-gate that opened to the rear garden, with a tiled roof over a set of narrow wooden doors painted in fading red. It stood there, looking aggressively solid and _real_ and ancient, as if it had always been there and all of them -- and the room they were in -- had simply intruded upon its existence. 

“Oh my days,” Wonpil murmured in English, while Sungjin moved to steady the Head Court Lady by the elbow. Jae, in the meantime, had both hands pressed over his mouth. 

With the hand that wasn’t holding the flute, Dowoon reached forward and pulled open one of the doors. Beyond the threshold was a path, which cut through a barren landscape lit by a sky that appeared to be in perpetual sunset. 

Younghyun stepped around the gate to look behind it. “I just see the doors, and all of you,” he said.

“I guess,” said Dowoon, “I’ll just have to go through, then.” 

He had earlier already said his goodbyes to most of the Royal Guard, although they weren’t to know that it was a goodbye. 

“It was only _gukbap_ ,” Staff Sergeant Yoon had said, when he’d seen Dowoon solemnly shaking the hands of his subordinates, including Sergeants Han and Kim, as well as Corporal Nam. 

“Thank you,” Dowoon had mumbled, as he’d shaken Staff Sergeant Yoon’s hand as well, saying nothing about the many servings of _samgyeopsal_ and other side dishes that they would soon discover in the refrigerator at the Guards’ quarters. The Palace Office hyungs and noonas, too, would likely be confused when they returned to the office on Monday to find a package of snacks in their shared pantry.

Now for the even more difficult farewells, thought Dowoon, turning back to his hyungs and the Head Court Lady. 

He leaned down to hug Lady Noh first; her returning embrace, amidst the rustling of her hanbok fabric, was surprisingly strong for someone so frail. 

“Be well,” she told Dowoon, pressing his hand between hers, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

And then there was Sungjin, who hated hugs even in this world but tolerated Dowoon’s now, patting him awkwardly on the arm. 

“Stand up straight, all right?” Sungjin said, and ruffled Dowoon’s hair. 

Next was Jae, who thumped Dowoon’s back some more. 

“Be honest, though,” he said, in an attempt at insouciance that was undercut by how he had to rub at his eyes with the back of his sleeves. “I _do_ get most of the vocal lines, don’t I?” 

Dowoon laughed, and shook his head because he wasn’t sure he could speak without actually properly crying, and oh -- Wonpil was hugging him now, coming round Dowoon’s side and putting his arms around Dowoon’s shoulders. Instinctively, Dowoon turned, and buried his face into the fabric of Wonpil’s hoodie. 

“It’s going to be okay,” said Wonpil, not with the uncertain roteness from earlier that day at the gazebo, but with the sensible Wonpil-like conviction that had been so comforting even over the phone, halfway across the world. 

“For you too, hyung,” Dowoon mumbled into Wonpil’s shoulder, so quietly that Wonpil probably couldn’t hear him. 

Then, finally: Younghyun. 

“Don’t say goodbye just yet,” said Younghyun, with the barest hint of a smile on his lips. “Maybe when we get to the other side.”

When Dowoon boggled at him, Younghyun shrugged, and said, “What sort of Royal Guard would I be, if I didn’t make sure that you got over safely, or that His Majesty made it back in one piece?” 

Dowoon glanced over at Wonpil, who nodded. 

“But what if --” Dowoon began. “What if you get stuck, or if ‘there’ isn’t my world at all, or --” 

“If it isn’t your world,” said Wonpil, “then wouldn’t it be better if Younghyun were with you?” There was a steel in the way he said it, which, together with the brief glance he directed at Younghyun, suggested to Dowoon that they had argued over this and Wonpil had won. 

In the background, Jae muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, _noble idiots_.

“Well,” said Dowoon, after a pause. “If His Majesty is with my hyungs, we’ll find him in no time.” 

“Good,” Wonpil replied. He turned to Younghyun, and reached over to squeeze his hand. 

“Come back quick, hyung,” he said, with a wry little smile. “I have a flight to catch.” 

It was only because Dowoon was standing so close to Younghyun and Wonpil that he caught sight of it: the unbearable softness in Wonpil’s expression; the way their fingers clung as Wonpil withdrew his hand. 

And then Younghyun was opening the doors the rest of the way, and Dowoon was giving all of them one last look before he turned, and stepped through. 

\---

**Royal Collection of Corea | Collection Database**

**The King's _Daegeum_**  
**Date/Period:** Silla, 6th century  
**Dimensions:** L. 84.5 x Diam 4.5 cm  
**Accession No.:** RCIN 210  
**Description:** _This object is currently not on display at the Hall of Artefacts._ Widely believed to be the subject of the legend of _manpasikjeok_ , this flute from the personal collection of King Hyojong of Joseon (more popularly known by his personal name, Sohyeon) has traditionally been placed on public display only once every twenty years, and may be handled only by the King or an authorised subject. It is unclear when this flute, thought to be lost for centuries since the Silla period, was recovered by Hyojong, but Court records reflect six occasions in the Joseon period where the flute was played. The first of these instances was during Hyojong's response to _yangban_ dissent resulting from his proposed reforms to land ownership, which many historians agree was ahead of his time.  
**Provenance:** King Hyojong (Sohyeon) of Joseon

\---

` **National Museum of Korea | Collection | Curator’s Picks** `

`**Ornate Flute-Case**  
**Period:** Joseon, 16th century  
**Dimensions:** L. 90.40 cm  
**Designation:** National Treasure #1270  
**Description:** Flute-case made of lacquered wood inlaid with mother of pearl.  
**Curator's notes:** Thought to have belonged to Crown Prince Sohyeon, this flute-case boasts some of the most delicate lacquerwork of its time. The flute it must have contained has never been found.`

\---

It made a certain sort of sense, thought Dowoon, that they would leave one palace and emerge from another.

Inside the between-place, when they'd traversed the length of the path and reached the other, small gate at the end, Younghyun had paused, the slowly shifting purples and oranges of the sky around them lending his face an otherworldly cast. 

"Well," he said. "Let's see if Jaehyung was right."

Together they pushed open the doors of the gate and stepped through, to find themselves standing outside Gwanghwamun in Seoul.

Beside Dowoon, Younghyun let out a quiet gasp. 

While Gwanghwamun at the Busan palace was at the very tip of the island, and opened out into a square that overlooked the sea, this Gwanghwamun overlooked the very familiar surge of Seoul traffic, with buildings crowding on either side. And down the concrete peninsula in the middle stood first the statue of King Sejong, and then, in the distance, Admiral Yi Sun-sin. 

"Is this--" Younghyun began. He looked, for the first time, properly uncertain.

"Yes," said Dowoon, rummaging in his backpack (which the Head Court Lady had rustled up for him when he'd requested one) for his phone -- the one he hadn't been able to use for two months. Now, the top right hand corner of the screen displayed four signal bars. The time reflected was slightly before midnight.

"Did we spend an hour in there?" asked Dowoon.

"No," said Younghyun, checking his watch. "We were barely ten minutes."

"Wow," Dowoon said, "dimension travel is weird." Then, after a pause he added, "I guess we need to get you a T-money card."

"I'm sorry?" said Younghyun.

"For the subway," said Dowoon, taking Younghyun by the arm. "Our dorm isn't anywhere near here."

They travelled mostly in silence, Younghyun looking curiously around as if to catalogue any differences he could see, from the National Museum of Korea banners on a special exhibition on the last kings of the Joseon dynasty, to the GOT7 poster inside the subway station. 

"Isn't that Jinyoung--" Younghyun began. "And Jaebeom… what on earth." He paused, and pointed to Bambam. "That's Sungjin's housemate from university."

"Yes, they're an idol group here," said Dowoon, more concerned with catching the last train. 

Once they’d safely boarded the subway train, Dowoon pulled out his phone, which had been buzzing with messages ever since he’d arrived. Most of them were from two months ago: Sungjin, asking where Dowoon had gone; a ‘ _We’re sorry, just tell us where you are,_ ’ from Younghyun; a ‘ _dowoonieeeeee_ ’ from Jae and ‘ _share your location if you’re lost,_ ’ from Wonpil. He would have to give up on catching up with the messages on the group chat, which would probably take days to scroll through. 

“Is that--” said Younghyun, pointing at a photograph among the five hundred or so messages Dowoon was scrolling past.

Dowoon scrolled back up to the photograph. It was a selfie sent to the group chat by Jae, with the message, ‘ _I CAN’T BELIEVE WE JUST SPENT THREE HOURS AT THE MUSEUM_ ’. In the background was a figure who was unmistakably Dowoon, who appeared to be quietly quizzing a docent in front of a portrait of Emperor Gojong. Standing slightly to Dowoon’s left was Sungjin, who appeared to have long since given up paying attention and was looking at his phone. 

The Dowoon in the photograph was wearing Dowoon’s cap and the black zip-up hoodie his _noona_ had gotten him for his birthday last year, but it was clear, even from the way he stood -- back straight, hands folded behind his back -- that this was an entirely different person. 

“At least we know he’s with them,” Dowoon mumbled, scrolling past the ensuing conversation (which seemed to be some protracted discussion about who should sleep on the spare _yo_ in the corner of the living room, since it wasn’t fair for Sungjin to be displaced for so many nights).

“Yes,” said Younghyun, looking considerably more relieved. 

It was an oddly freeing feeling to be out on the subway at night like this, going mostly unnoticed and without having to fret about security. Only a pair of high schoolers seemed to have recognised them, but they had already exited the train by the time they heard the exclamations of, “Oh! Young K!” behind them. 

And then, finally, they were crossing the street to the apartment building, and letting themselves into the lobby using the pass card that Dowoon had in his wallet. Dowoon had dreamed about this, on many nights in the past two months -- dreamed that he was returning; of looking for the right bus that would get him home; of getting into the lift, and searching frantically for a floor number that wasn’t there. 

Now, he held onto the metal bar inside the lift as it ascended, letting the cool metal against his skin serve as a reminder that this _wasn’t_ a dream. Beside Dowoon, Younghyun’s hands, usually still, were flexing and fidgeting by his sides. 

“They’re probably all asleep,” Dowoon told Younghyun, as they approached the door to the apartment, Dowoon keying in the passcode from sheer muscle memory. 

Younghyun nodded. Quietly, Dowoon opened the door. 

The living room was illuminated only by the light of the television, which was switched on with the volume turned low. In front of it -- or rather, slumped across the sofa in a deep slumber -- was Dowoon’s Younghyun, the remote control long since fallen on the floor. He did, however, have a blanket draped over him, like someone had found him like that and didn’t have the heart to wake him. 

“Whu--” said someone -- possibly the same blanket-draping someone -- from within a nest of blankets on the spare mattress. 

It was Wonpil, who had stirred at first at the sound of the door opening and who now sat up, displacing a blanket and causing the hood of his hoodie to slip off his head as he did so. 

He blinked owlishly at them. “Dowoonie?” 

Then he caught sight of Younghyun, and there was a discernible moment in which Dowoon could see how Wonpil’s gaze travelled from the Younghyun beside Dowoon, to the Younghyun still fast asleep on the sofa. 

Wonpil rubbed at his eyes. “Is that--”

But he couldn’t finish his sentence, because Dowoon was toeing off his shoes and barrelling towards Wonpil, not caring about the painful thud of his knees against the floor as he enveloped Wonpil, blankets and all, in a crushing hug. 

“Dowoonie?” came Wonpil’s muffled voice, as he squirmed in Dowoon’s grasp to reciprocate in a blankety hug. He shoved his head far back enough to catch a breath, and asked, “Is that really you?”

“Yeah,” said Dowoon, his own face still buried in what he assumed was Wonpil’s chest (it was hard to tell under the blanket). “Hyung. I missed you.” 

“Dowoon-ah,” Wonpil replied, patting Dowoon with the hand that was not completely immobilised under Dowoon’s weight. “I missed you too.” Then, after a pause, he said, “Is it just me, or are there two Younghyun-hyungs in the room right now?” 

“Oh,” said Dowoon, sitting up and turning round to the Younghyun at the door, who was now carefully unlacing his shoes. 

“Is that… _Captain of the Guard_ Younghyun-hyung?” asked Wonpil in a small voice.

“How did you--” Dowoon began, then paused. “His Majesty must have told you, of course.” 

“Does this mean you’ve worked out a way to travel back?” asked Wonpil. “And is Younghy-- Captain Younghyun-hyung here to bring King Dowoonie back?” 

“Yes,” said Younghyun -- Captain Younghyun, placing his and Dowoon’s shoes neatly by the door. And then, having completed everything he could possibly busy himself with, he straightened up and stood there, uncertain once again. 

“He came with me to make sure I got back safe,” Dowoon explained, “and he’s going to bring His Majesty back with him. There’s a flute, you see, actually, it was _your_ flute, and --”

“Oh goodness,” said Wonpil suddenly, scrambling fully out of his mangled blanket nest. “We have a _guest_." He clambered to his feet and half-ran to the kitchen. “Do you want water? Or tea?” 

Captain Younghyun was now looking at Wonpil with an expression that was both surprised and fond. 

“I told you they were really similar,” said Dowoon, standing up. 

“I don’t recall you ever saying that,” Younghyun murmured, still staring after Wonpil. 

“Sorry,” Wonpil was saying, as he opened and closed various drawers. “I thought we still had the nice green tea but we seem to only have this other kind which might have expired…” 

The banging noises Wonpil was making in his haste to locate the tea were apparently loud enough to wake Sungjin, who now poked his head grumpily out of the bedroom door.

“What is going on--” he began, before he caught sight of Dowoon and Captain Younghyun. He froze for a moment, blinking at the two of them, before leaning back and shutting the door. 

After several seconds, he opened it again. 

“Yes, hyung,” said Wonpil wearily, from where he was filling the kettle at the kitchen sink, “it’s really Dowoonie, and that’s King Dowoonie’s Younghyun-hyung, here to collect him.” 

“Oh,” said Sungjin. "Well." He pushed open the door the rest of the way. “He’s right here.” 

Inside the room, on the top bunk usually occupied by Wonpil, was Dowoon. He, too, had been woken up by the noise, and was now sitting up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

And for all that the other guards always talked about how the Captain was ‘a fast one’; of how he’d apparently, at the Busan Film Festival, sprinted across the stage in a second to stop one of the weird paper bamboo backdrop things from falling onto His Majesty and Princess Soo-jin, Dowoon had never experienced for himself exactly how quickly this Younghyun could move. In one swift movement he had crossed the living room and the length of Sungjin and Wonpil’s room, coming to a halt by the bed. 

“Hyung,” said other Dowoon, sounding startled. Then he was scrambling out of the bunk, prevented from slipping on the ladder rungs only by Captain Youngyhun, who was half-hugging, half carrying him down, stumbling under the weight of other Dowoon’s embrace. 

“ _Guys_ ,” said Jae, who had, in the meantime, emerged from the other room.

“Captain Brian is here,” Sungjin explained succinctly. “And also, our Dowoonie’s back.” 

“Nice,” said Jae, his face still puffy with sleep. He glanced over to their Younghyun, who was still out cold on the sofa. “Is nobody waking actual Brian up for this?” 

\---

**omonatheydidnt | Day6 roundup**

\- They’re on a break after their Every Day6 Encore Concert + Japanese debut, but k-fans have been sharing some cute sightings on twitter, so I thought it would be nice to put all of it together

Sungjin, Jae and Dowoon museum expedition  
\- several fans spotted them at the National Museum of Korea on a guided tour  
\- said that they spent quite a while at the late Joseon period gallery and the Korean Empire gallery  
\- one fan who briefly said hi said that Dowoon is developing a bit of a Seoul accent  
\- National Museum of Korea instagram account posted a picture of the three of them with the docent team 

Source: **1** **2** **3** **4**

Young K, Wonpil and Dowoon visit Gyeongbokgung and Changdeokgung  
\- spotted by fans again  
\- two fans who took a photograph with them said that Dowoon complimented them on their hanbok  
\- one of them said she was the most surprised at how cool and handsome Dowoon was in person, like he had an “aura” that felt very different from how he comes across normally  
\- apparently Dowoon also spoke in English with some tourists

Source: **1** **2**

Sungjin, Wonpil and Dowoon have lunch at a highway rest stop  
\- so this was according to a fan’s mother, who was seated beside them  
\- Dowoon and Wonpil were sharing food, Dowoon let Wonpil eat everything first  
\- they told the fan’s mother that they were driving to Busan, and she recommended that they eat dweji gukbap  
\- mother said she didn’t realise they were famous until later, but she thought they were very pleasant and that one of them spoke very well, like an announcer (she insists that it’s Dowoon but the fan was like… no way)

Source: **1**

_I didn’t know Dowoon was such a history buff? Also is Seoul life finally getting to him??_

15 comments

\---

After they had woken Younghyun up and explained it all over again to him; after Wonpil had put the kettle on for five minutes before realising that he’d not plugged it in; after the confusion of it all:

“I suppose,” said King Dowoon, just a hint of regret in his voice, “it is time for us to return.” 

Now that he had actually met King Dowoon, Dowoon wondered how the Head Court Lady and Younghyun hadn’t had an entire meltdown in those first days of Dowoon’s arrival. It wasn’t just his cut-glass enunciation that Dowoon could never hope to imitate; rather, everything about him, from the way he held himself and the expression in his eyes, was different. Even the way he sat on their sofa, back perfectly straight despite the enveloping squashiness of the cushions.

“Lady Noh will worry, otherwise,” said Captain Younghyun to King Dowoon, and it was once again altogether strange to see the two Younghyuns together; Captain Younghyun all still and proper in his suit, while Younghyun sat cross-legged on King Dowoon’s other side, blanket pooled in his lap, his hair sticking up and the collar of his t-shirt slightly out of shape from many rounds of washing.

“And Wonpil-hyung has a flight to catch,” Dowoon added, ignoring the opaque look Captain Younghyun directed at him. “Other Wonpil,” he clarified, glancing over at his own Wonpil, who was standing by the kitchen table waiting for the tea to steep. 

“I must thank you, Dowoon-sshi, for ably taking over my royal duties,” said King Dowoon. 

“I don’t know about ‘ably’,” Dowoon mumbled, while Captain Younghyun smiled. 

“He rose to the occasion,” said Captain Younghyun fondly. 

“Dowoon just thanked himself for being Dowoon,” said Jae. “Does nobody else find this _incredibly_ trippy?” 

King Dowoon smiled, not the serious smile from the photographs and news stories but a warm, slightly embarrassed one, and _now_ it was like looking in the mirror. 

“And I must thank you all as well,” he said to the rest of the hyungs, “for all your kindness.” 

“Don’t mention it,” said Sungjin, looking uncomfortable. 

“It’s not like we’d have let you just wander about on the streets,” said Younghyun, reaching over to punch King Dowoon gently in the thigh with his fist, apparently oblivious to how this made Captain Younghyun twitch. 

“Well, all the best,” said Jae, “with all your... king stuff.” 

“We’ll miss you,” said Wonpil, shuffling over to give King Dowoon a hug. And then Younghyun piled on, and Jae reluctantly went over as well, while Sungjin reached past their heads to pat King Dowoon’s. 

“I told you they’d take care of him,” said Dowoon in an undertone to Captain Younghyun, who had had to move off the sofa to make way for the rest of the hyungs.

“Imagine if we had bet on this,” deadpanned Captain Younghyun. “I’d have to pay you in money with your face on it.” 

“The Corean won is _legal tender_ ,” Dowoon hissed, and then succeeded in elbowing Captain Younghyun in the side.

The hyungs, in the meantime, had disentangled themselves from the group hug and were stepping away from King Dowoon, who looked rather pleased and whose ears had turned very red indeed. 

“Well,” said King Dowoon. “I suppose it really _is_ time.” 

And so, Dowoon retrieved the flute from his backpack and played it (“ _You play the_ flute _now_?” Jae had whispered, incredulous), and the same gate had appeared, right where the door to the storage room would have been. 

While the hyungs were still boggling at the interdimensional portal that Dowoon had just invoked in their living room, Dowoon turned to King Dowoon and held out the flute. 

“I think you should take this with you,” he said. 

“Are you quite certain?” asked King Dowoon, looking down at it. “After all, it was found in your world.”

“I’m pretty sure it would be better if you had it,” Dowoon replied. “There’s apparently a really long song about it as well, Jaehyung-hyung can sing it for you.” 

King Dowoon grimaced. “I’ll ask for a summary,” he said. “Too many evenings spent desperately trying to stay awake in the middle of a _pansori_ performance.”

“It’s the ceremonial hanbok, isn’t it,” said Dowoon. “All the layers.”

“It gets worse in the summer,” King Dowoon replied, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He’d changed back into the clothes he’d been wearing when the hyungs had found him, and was also carrying a bag containing, among other things, the record of his time in this dimension, which he had apparently been dutifully writing down in one of Wonpil’s spare notebooks.

Captain Younghyun, who’d been carefully tying his shoelaces, now straightened up and turned to Dowoon. 

“Be well,” he said, eyes shining as he smiled at Dowoon. 

“You too, hyung,” said Dowoon, feeling his nose sour with tears. “And be happy, all right?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Captain Younghyun replied, pulling Dowoon into a hug. 

“Okay,” Dowoon mumbled, thinking about the folder that King Dowoon would find upon his return, the one that contained the edict which would allow Wonpil to stay. “I won’t, then.” 

And with that they were off, Younghyun holding open the door of the gate as King Dowoon passed through, and then stepping through himself. 

For a second the gate seemed to shift hazily, like a mirage on a hot day. Then it vanished out of existence. 

“Whew,” said Jae, finally, over the sound of their collectively held breath being released. “That was… weird.” 

“Oh no,” said Wonpil in a small voice. “They didn’t even drink the tea.”

“I’ll drink it,” Younghyun said charitably. 

“I’m going back to sleep,” Sungjin announced. “Dowoon-ah, get some rest, too.” 

“You can sleep in my bed for today,” said Wonpil, still staring down at the teacups, “since I moved everything outside.” 

Dowoon nodded, not quite sure what to say when he was feeling like this -- this weird sense of loss even though he was happy, so happy, to be back here. He thought maybe he might cry again, but that didn’t feel entirely right, either.

As he was standing there, Younghyun -- his Younghyun -- padded over to the refrigerator to retrieve something. 

“Here,” said Younghyun, opening a familiar-looking box and holding it out to Dowoon. “Your _eomma_ sent these last week. King Dowoonie had two, because Wonpil said he should try them, but we didn’t touch the rest of them.” 

Within the box was a veritable mountain of heart-shaped chocolate cookies. Dowoon stared and stared at it, until --

“Dammit Brian, I think you just made him cry,” said Jae. 

Then Wonpil was wrapping his arms around Dowoon, and Younghyun was trying to feed Dowoon a cookie while Jae rubbed Dowoon’s shoulders and Sungjin ruffled Dowoon’s hair and said something about how “you won’t be able to get to sleep if you keep crying”.

And however many versions of them there might be, thought Dowoon, chewing on his salty cookie through sobs, as one of his hyungs tried to wipe both his eyes and his nose at the same time with the back of their sleeve -- however many realities, however many doors there might be at the end of that melody:

This. This one was Dowoon’s. And it was kind of perfect.

**THE END**

_(...ish)  
_  
\---

**Cooding - The Corean Fashion Blog | Royal Roundup**  
_By Cooding Team_

So, this week. THIS WEEK. Where do we even begin? A lot of things have happened over the past seven days, including Captain Kang being hit in the face by a football, the appearance of a (possible) long-lost royal, and an Actual royal edict reversing at least three generations’ worth of court protocol. But as always, here at Cooding we focus first on the fashion, so let’s get stuck in, shall we?

His Majesty lay low on Monday after (possibly) visiting the Sungkyungkwan University spring festival over the weekend and (possibly) killing it on the drums with a cool indie band (by the way, we haven’t gotten over this and neither should you, so here’s the clip again).

On Tuesday, he received the Prime Minister again for the monthly update -- now that the weather is warmer I guess they thought the famous Rear Garden would be a lovely photo op, and they thought right. The Royal Tailors seem to have fully switched gears to Spring/Summer season, putting His Majesty in a lovely mid-grey suit in fresco wool. As a side note, His Majesty does wear hanbok/modern hanbok so often that it’s easy to forget that Park Sungjin-nim has been specialising in menswear since his CSM days. But it's really apparent in outfits like this one, which was beautifully tailored and fit His Majesty perfectly. 

[photo] [photo] [photo]

On Wednesday His Majesty opened the Eco Palace 2020 exhibition, which highlights the Palace’s ongoing efforts to ensure that it is sustainably run. He then joined the Busan Beach Cleanup Network to pick up trash along Haeundae Beach. 

Here he is at the Eco Palace exhibition (which is on display at the square just outside Gwanghwamun), all lovely and casual in a green-trimmed _jeogori_ shirt with a subtle houndstooth pattern. I love it when His Majesty gets to dress down:

[photo] [photo] 

And _then_ he had to go and roll up his trousers and his sleeves for the beach cleanup, which, wow, ankles _and_ wrists, how will we survive?? Here’s Captain Kang, still in a suit, handing His Majesty a BUCKET HAT. 

[photo] [photo] [photo]

How can it be that the King of Corea, a grown man in his mid-twenties, can look so incredibly _cute_ just with the addition of a bucket hat??? It defies comprehension. Also, speaking of birthdays, the Beach Cleanup Network president made a joke about how the party on Haeundae Beach to celebrate His Majesty’s birthday is a peak time for the cleanup network, and His Majesty got adorably flustered about it. (For those who don’t know: every year in August, partygoers will gather on the beach to count down and shout happy birthday to the King since the beach is right next to Dongbaek island, where the Palace is.) 

[photo] [photo] [photo]

There were no public appearances by His Majesty on Thursday, and then on Friday he paid a visit to the middle-schoolers participating in the Royal Sports Trust’s football programme for underprivileged children. He, Captain Kang, and some other members of his staff gamely got into football gear for a friendly match with the kids. Again, His Majesty just looks like a college student in his football jersey, and he’s beaming so happily too:

[photo] [photo] [photo]

Sadly, this was a difficult day for poor Captain Kang, who got hit in the face by a football early on in the game. Bystanders said he recovered sufficiently to join in again later. Feel better soon, Captain Kang! 

Saturday morning started off relatively normal, with His Majesty visiting the Busan City Hall Open Library for story time with the kids. More green today, this time a lovely modern hanbok made from a forest green fabric shot through with white, which we saw several times last year in the spring. I also appreciate that His Majesty has been trying to change things up with the kids by letting them play with toy instruments and so on. 

[photo] [photo] [photo]

Also here’s some bonus Captain Kang playing the recorder: 

[photo] [photo]

So this is not a gossip blog, but there were some reliable first-hand accounts of Captain Kang picking up a member of the extended royal family later that day -- just off a bus on the highway, no less. Other passengers have separately tweeted about Captain Kang addressing the man as ‘ _daegam_ ’, but we don’t quite know which prince he was referring to, if that was indeed one of the princes. 

Anyhow, back to the fashion -- on Sunday, the King had no public appearances, but was spotted leaving a popular and very old _dwaeji gukbap_ restaurant with Captain Kang, Royal Tailor Park, and _pansori_ superstar Park Jaehyung. They were also accompanied by another young man whom people are speculating may have been the visiting ‘ _daegam_ ’ Captain Kang had received. In any case, the poor man looked jet-lagged and a little stunned in the available photos, so we’ll just leave him be. Have some of His Majesty in a hoodie instead:

[photo] [photo] [photo]

And Captain Kang in the only day-off clothing he seems to own, i.e. the Linen Shirt:

[photo] [photo] [photo]

All of which brings us to _today’s news_. If you haven’t heard already, the Palace announced that the King has issued a royal edict lifting the prohibition on members of the extended royal family entering the country. Of course, given that most of them have been living abroad for many generations (Prince Buyeong, who is second in line to the throne, has been in England since probably the sixties), it’s unclear if any of them will return to Corea on a permanent basis. It’s still a nice gesture, though, and an indication that the royal family is perhaps healing after King Hyeonjong’s tragic death thirteen years ago.

And hopefully the lifting of the edict means that we might see more of mystery _daegam_ , who was spotted at Busan International being sent off by Captain Kang, Park Jaehyung, and Royal Tailor Park. (I expect the King might have been off doing edict-related things at this time.) Not very many photos apart from their initial arrival at the airport, I think because people got distracted by the arrival of EXO from Manila. Did we ever mention that Park Sungjin apprenticed with Yohji Yamamoto before he took on this Royal Tailoring gig? Because it SHOWS in his daily wear and we love it. Park Jaehyung in the meantime was in full incognito mode (hat, mask, hoodie, etc.) and Captain Kang seems to have excavated a t-shirt from his emo dark past underneath that jacket.

[photo] [photo] [photo]

To round it all off, here’s Captain Kang walking next to mystery _daegam_ , with Captain Kang carrying _two_ suitcases because he is a consummate gentleman who also hasn’t worked out where the airport trolleys are.

[photo] [photo]

That smile, though. :’)

**Author's Note:**

> ALL I WANTED TO DO WAS WRITE ONE (1) JOKE ABOUT DOWOON'S FACE BEING ON THE 10,000 WON NOTE. 
> 
> Hugest thanks go to forochel, for introducing me to Day6 over the course of many moons (how did I get from only knowing Wonpil and “Jae, the cute one from America” to writing 35k~ fic?) and to the delight that is youngfeel (when you said rarepair I didn't think THIS rare???); for all the lovely comments and excited bellowing and creating in the course of writing this fic; and for embarking on a _parallel fic_ /sequel/prequel/remix (!!!!!!) which has been an utter delight. Happy birthday festival!!! 
> 
> Liberties were taken with many things, including but not limited to: royal titles, Korean history, and pansori in general, so please take everything with huge fistfuls of salt.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [myeongok (a dream-song) 1: London, 2013/14](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24921901) by [forochel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/forochel/pseuds/forochel)
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